Net and Trident
by Charlotte -LOVE
Summary: Wanted by all, loved by few - Finnick Odair's Hunger Games and life after. Finnick/Annie later on. Starts before Hunger Games - but continues up through Catching Fire and into Mockingjay. Rated M for violence and mature themes. Enjoy.
1. The Reaping

_My newest fanfiction... It's been a while since I've written anything I like enough to post here._

_I read Hunger Games in July, and was instantly hooked. Especially by Finnick Odair (who wouldn't be?) I didn't like how we know practically nothing about his Hunger Games, and his love of Annie, and how he feels about the relationships he's forced to have, so I decided this would be a good place to start._

_Sorry for the unoriginal chapter names, I have a limited imagination when it comes to them._

_Please ignore the messed up tenses in the first chapter – I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing after a very long time. Any one brave enough to be my beta? I'll be first to admit I need one._

_I do __**not**__ own the Hunger Games (although I wish I did, then Finnick would be mine ^^)_

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**Chapter One: The Reaping**

As always, I awoke to the sound of the tide gently hitting the beach. However, instead of looking upwards at the ceiling, dirty blonde hair blocked my vision.

"Ariel, it's too early," I groaned automatically.

"Me 'n Dad are going fishing now and Dad said I had to wake you up and see whether you wanted to come."

I glanced through the window and saw that the sun had barely risen. Usually I wouldn't be awake for another six hours or so. But I understood why my Dad and sister wanted me to go with them – they wanted to do the thing that my family loved, just in case I didn't come home tonight.

"Okay. I'll be ready in a minute."

Ariel grinned and gave me a one-armed hug before running out the room. In comparison with her energy, I crawled out of bed like a slug, rubbing my eyes furiously to try and wake myself up a little.

This was my third year of being in the reaping and I was almost used to the nervous feeling that made my stomach tie itself in knots. I dressed and ran my hands through my hair to make it lie smoother, trying to push back my anxiety. After all, I was Finnick Odair, I _always_ kept my cool.

As soon I was under control, I wandered downstairs and grabbed a bread roll before joining Ariel and Dad on the beach that was technically our back garden. The sand was cold under my toes; the sun had not had enough time to warm it yet. Our family fishing boat was bobbing gently on the small waves about fifty metres offshore. Ariel was sitting in the boat, organising the rods, spears and nets while my Dad kept hold of one of the mooring posts. They both smiled at me as I waded into the water and lazily swam up to them.

"Coming up?" Dad asked.

I shook my head. "No, I'm going to swim this morning." As I always did. If there was a chance to swim, I took it.

Swimming in the freezing water helped wake me up and focus on the day ahead of me. We would get back late and with more fish than normal, because we were the only family who went fishing on reaping day. Once we were home, Dad would go off to the market to sell most of our catch and buy a nice dessert for the evening while Ariel cooked lunch and I got ready. Then we would eat lunch – which would most likely be indigestible, because what eight year old can make a decent cooked meal? – and then go to the reaping.

I could feel Ariel's eyes watching me as I swam, and I felt the anxiety radiating off her. I grimaced and dove under the water to avoid the emotions. In the sea everything had a muted quality to it. The water was dark, I could only see the silver blurs of fish as they swam past. I was numb from the cold, so all feeling was cut off, and no sound reached my ears. It was a calm, _silent_ world that I would have stayed in forever if my lungs hadn't started complaining loudly. I kicked upwards and resurfaced, gladly drawing in the fresh lungful of air. Ariel and Dad had stopped the boat a few hundred metres behind me, so I quickly swam back to join them.

Dad pulled me up out of the water as I approached them, and I took my normal place next to Ariel. The smooth piece of wood that we used as a seat felt warm to my cool skin. Small bits of seaweed stuck to my body like leeches.

I turned to grin at Ariel and opened my arms. "Want a hug?"

She wrinkled her nose at me before pulling a towel out from under the seat and chucking it at me. "Once you're clean, please."

I rubbed the soft material over my arms and bare torso as the other two threw the nets over board and grabbed spears. As soon as I was clean, I embraced Ariel in a bear hug that made her squeal and hit me on the head.

Neither of us wanted to break the hug first – that's what reaping day does to everyone, makes them ridiculously sentimental – but Dad's pointed look at the abandoned spear made me release Ariel. She picked up her spear as I reached under the seat and grabbed my trident. I couldn't remember a time when I didn't have my trident. I've gotten so used to it that it is almost an extension to my arm now.

We all slipped into our fishing modes (staring at the water for a sign of life, spears and trident poised and ready to kill). We ignored the straining ropes of the net – it would pick up more fish the longer we left it. Ariel was the first on the boat to catch a fish, her spear slipping into the water like lightening, then pulling back with a small herring on the end. I smiled proudly at her as she threw it into the bucket in the middle. Terrible cook she may be, how many other nine year olds could spear a fish so precisely?

I was so busy smiling at my little sister that I only just managed to bring my trident down in time to spear a large trout. I chucked it into the bucket and winked at Ariel, who was gaping at the large fish.

"You'll catch something that big one day soon," I promised and went back to staring at the sea.

We hauled in the net when the sun was getting high in the sky. Along with the fish we had speared, we had enough to buy a really nice dessert for the evening.

"Good fishing," my Dad said solemnly as we rowed the boat back to our beach. "I'll go sell it at the market while you get ready, okay, Finnick?"

"Great," I said hollowly. "Buy something with chocolate for dessert tonight, please? We haven't had chocolate in ages."

"If it's what you want."

We didn't speak again after that.

When the boat touched the shore, it was almost noon. The reaping would start in precisely one hour. Ariel made me some sludgy fish soup while I dressed in my reaping clothes – black trousers and a sea-blue shirt. Both were new and unworn.

The clock seemed to speed up as I ate my lunch with Ariel sitting beside me – her own bowl of soup untouched. I could see her small fists clenched on her lap. I put my spoon down and gently prised her hands open.

"I'm coming back, you know?" I said to comfort her. I sounded so sure that for a moment I believed myself. Then I remembered I was a year older and my name had been submitted an extra time. That piece of paper might tip the odds against me.

_Three times? It can't hurt me that much, _I told myself. _There are people who have to sign up for tesserae, they'll have their names in there eight or nine times. And I'm only fourteen. Even if I do get picked, someone might volunteer... It's not an uncommon occurrence in District 4._

But those were just words to comfort me. There was still a chance I would get reaped today.

As if hearing my thoughts, Ariel said, "But what if you don't?"

"I will," I said simply and went back to eating my soup. It was getting cold and becoming even harder to stomach.

Outside, I watched as the sun climbed higher into the sky. The weather seemed to be mocking us – how could the sun be smiling while twenty three children were going to be sentenced to death today? But the weather didn't care about what was happening with us humans; it didn't reflect the mood of the Districts. Maybe it was celebrating, like the people in the Capitol who were eagerly awaiting the beginning of the sixty fifth Hunger Games. They were probably talking about what the arena was going be this year, wondering how interesting the deaths will be, not caring that it is children dying for their entertainment.

Dad came back carrying a huge chocolate and vanilla cake. I stared at it, my mouth falling open. Even though we were rich, I swear we didn't have enough money to buy something that extravagant. Last year we had a small sponge cake with fresh berries to celebrate.

Ariel, like me, was stunned. She dipped a finger into the mountain of whipped cream at the top and tasted it delicately.

"This is so yummy!" she squealed and scraped a little more off the top. She offered the next dollop of cream to me, and I experimentally put in my mouth. It melted on my tongue, filling my mouth with the most delicious tastes. Traces of vanilla and chocolate were mixed in with the smooth cream.

"How much did this _cost_?" I asked Dad in shock as Ariel plucked a chocolate flake off the side. I followed her example. They tasted just as divine as the cream.

"We won't be eating anything but fish for the next month," Dad answered with a smile. "But I thought we should treat ourselves. Although the way you two are going, there won't be any left by the time we get back."

His warning didn't stop Ariel and me cutting off big chunks to eat while we walked to the square. After a half-hearted protest, he accepted an extra large slice from Ariel.

"We're going to be as fat as the mayor by the time we finish these," Dad joked.

The mayor of District Four was a walking tub of lard. District mayors generally got a large food allowance from the Capitol, and seeing as our mayor lived alone; he took it as his personal duty to eat all of the food provided for him.

"They'll have to roll me into the reaping pens," I added.

Ariel snorted. "That'll stop the girls swooning every time one of your head lice jumps in their direction."

"Are you kidding? I would be an _idol_ if I was fat. They would erect statues celebrating my beauty. And I don't have head lice; I think you are confusing me with yourself."

"I don't have head lice either!"

"Do too," I teased.

She stuck her tongue out at me. "If you're going to be rude, then I won't tell you what I heard yesterday!"

My sister knew me too well. I had a weakness for secrets. "I take it back! My head is crawling with head lice, while your perfect, amazing, beautiful head is completely free of anything remotely unpleasant. You are, after all, the image of innocence and beauty and I would kneel before you if the ground wasn't so dirty and I wasn't wearing brand new trousers."

She pretended to consider this before pulling my ear down to whisper, "Camela wants you to be her boyfriend and is planning to ask you after the reaping."

"Thank you, little oracle of wisdom," I said as I straightened and started walking again. "I will have to run away from _her_, then."

Dad shushed us as we approached the square. We were one of the last families to arrive and the large area was packed full of people. I checked out names off and hugged my Dad and Ariel – who had lost all of their previous happiness – before making my way over to the boy's pen. As I walked past the girls, I saw one of Ariel's older friends, Annie. I realised it was her first reaping year, which would explain why she was standing near the back with the other twelve year olds. She caught my eye and I gave her a smile and a wink. I heard at least five girls sigh as I made my way into the boys section. My school friends jerked their heads in the direction of the sighing girls and rolled their eyes. They were pretty much used to me getting all of the attention from the opposite sex, though it was easy to tell that it was aggravating for them.

There was light applause as the mayor heaved himself onto the stage. As he began the traditional talk of how proud he was to be announcing this year's Hunger Games, I glanced behind me and caught my family's attention. We all grinned and looked at the mayor. I smothered laugh.

The speech winded down as this year's mentors, Cade – who won the Games four years ago – and the middle-aged Mags – who was alive during the Dark Days – were introduced. Cade smiled and waved at the cameras as his name was read. Mags just nodded grimly. She obviously wasn't one of the ones who believed it was a great honour to be reaped.

Then District Four's escort, Daphne, appeared from one side of the stage. She wore her traditional lime-green polka dot dress and gave us all a beaming smile before taking her place in-between the two big reaping balls. Daphne had been my District's escort for as long as I can remember. She was well loved in the Capitol and was given this place immediately when she signed up for the job. Every year, to mark another 'glorious' Hunger Games, she got an extra tattoo on her body. That year's addition seemed to be a four pointed star on her collarbone that changed colour every few seconds.

"It's lovely to be back in District Four," she chirped into the microphone once the mayor has stopped talking. "I have missed you all in the year that I have been away." The cameras zoomed in on her smiling face as she continued to talk about what an honour it is to be able to help every tribute from District Four and how she hoped never to leave.

The energy re-entered her voice as she started the actual reaping. "And now, let's start the 65th Hunger Games! Ladies first." She dipped her hand into the large glass bowl and rummaged around before drawing out a tiny slip of white paper. I prayed that it was not someone I knew well. "Danty Higgs!"

I relaxed slightly as the unfamiliar name was read out. A tall, skinny eighteen year old shakily made her way up to the stage. I didn't even recognise her, but I could tell she was one of the less well off people in District Four. Her obviously second-hand clothes hung off her thin frame and her damp brown hair clung limply to her face. She seemed more resigned that shocked, so she probably had her name in extra times for tesserae. Daphne asked for any volunteers, but there were none.

It was like that some years. District 4 was not like 1 and 2, which had so many volunteers every Hunger Games that they had to have third and fourth reapings just to get one tribute. Some years were like that here – the year that Cade won, we were forced to have seven reapings to decide the boy tribute. Those years are the years that we win. However sometimes the Careers don't see themselves as ready, and there is not one volunteer.

"And now, let's draw the boy tribute!"

My muscles contracted again as Daphne put her hand in the second glass ball, while telling the audience how she couldn't wait to see what brave pair of tributes our district offered her this year.

She took out a slip of paper and unfolded it.

_Please not me_, I begged silently.

She read it, and then opened her mouth to read out the name that was printed carefully scripted in small, black letters.

_Please not me_.

"Finnick Odair!" she calls.

_Of course. It's me._

Before the cameras could focus on my face, I composed my face into a blank mask. Daphne called my name again and smiled as I made my way jerkily up the few steps to the platform. As I faced the crowd I had enough sense to straighten my spine and place a look of confidence on my face, the whole of Panem was watching me after all.

"What a looker we've pulled this year," Daphne jokes and winks. "The magnificent Finnick Odair, everyone!"

To me, the world had taken on a strange, disjointed quality. The sounds that reached my ears didn't match with what I was seeing. I could _hear_ the audience politely applauding Danty and I as Daphne chattered away but none of the words made sense. I watched the children in the pens – all of them with looks of intense relief on their faces. Even my friends didn't seen upset by name being called, although that wasn't unsurprising – it was me or them. Camela Lockhert wore a mild frown as she looked at me, but nothing more. But there were people that did care. Two people to whom it mattered that I was standing on the stage. I could see my Dad tightly holding on to tiny Ariel, but the expressions on their faces were lost to me – I couldn't focus on them long enough to understand.

The jab of pain as a Peacekeeper poked me with the end of his gun woke me up slightly. Sounds that were muted regained volume and quality, while the visual world unblurred. It didn't make what had just happened any better, the fact that I could now clearly see Ariel as she sobbed into my Dad's shirt while he looked around him in a daze. The fact that I could hear the relieved chatter of the families at the back that their sons and daughters hadn't be picked. The Peacekeeper's gun dug into my back again as a group of them surrounded me and led me off the stage, into the guest rooms in the Justice Building where I would say goodbye to my family.

It was a luxury suite, with carpets that mimicked the thick sand that gave way under your feet. That small texture helped me to relax slightly. I closed my eyes and imagined myself on the beach outside my house again, the sand soft between my toes.

My eyes opened as Ariel came in with my Dad. She ran straight into me, and wrapped her arms around my neck in a strangle hold.

I gently prised her arms off me. "Gently there, Ariel."

She burst into tears as I picked her up, balancing her on my hip like I used to do when she was smaller. Dad came and tugged me gently onto the couch, before hugging me close to him.

I murmured quiet consolations to Ariel as I rested my head on Dad's shoulder. We barely moved a muscle in the half an hour time slot together. The Peacekeepers opened the door to call my family out. Ariel walked next to my Dad, clinging onto his hand. She turned and I smiled at her, trying to say all the things I needed to.

Before the Peacekeepers could stop her, she was clambering back into my arms. I took a deep, steadying breath – taking in the smell of saltwater from her hair one last time before she was taken away from me. As a Peacekeeper pulled her out of my arms, she placed a small bracelet decorated with shells in my hand. My mother had given it to me when I was young, but Ariel had loved playing with so much that I had presented it to her on her seventh birthday. It had never left her wrist since. I could only watch as the Peacekeeper handed her over to Dad, the bracelet hanging limply in my hand.

"Ariel, I'll tell you a secret," I called to her. "I love you." I caught her green eyes one last time before the door slammed shut.

I sat down heavily on one of the plush chairs. _What_ is the point of being beautiful, if it doesn't even help you survive?

Over the next two hours I had a steady stream of visitors. Some stayed only for a few seconds to wish me good luck before darting out the room as if my presence would curse them. Others sat and talked with me for ten or twenty minutes, giving me tips and advice on how to survive. Annie Cresta, Ariel's twelve year old friend, came in to give me a quick kiss on the cheek before running out, a pink blush staining her face.

A group of my school friends barged in the room at one point. They all had their heads bowed with looks of such grief on their faces you would have thought I was already dead and they were viewing my body. I mentioned it to them; and they lightened up and cautiously joked back. By the end of twenty minutes, they were all smiling and laughing, clapping me on the back as they left.

One stopped in the doorway and said, "You know, you could win. Easily. Just make sure you kill the District 1 and District 2 tributes early."

"They'll be dead in a flash," I replied. "I'm fully intent on coming back here one day."

He nodded and left the room, soon to be replaced by a hysterical Camela Lockhert. I spent the next visitors slot awkwardly patting her on the back as she sobbed onto my shirt and professed her undying love to me. Following her were several other distraught girls, who all seemed to have been hiding their true feelings for me during all the years I've known them. I thought back to all of the times my friends had been jealous of my instant success with girls. They really weren't missing out on anything.

I was almost glad when the car pulled up at the Justice Building to take me to the train. But as I watched the distance between myself and my home increasing, all I could think about was how much I wanted to be sitting in my kitchen, eating the rest of the cake with my father and my sister. How much I wanted to be safe.


	2. Competition

_Another long chapter (well, long for me)_

_I promise the action will start heating up in the next chapter; after all, we're in the Capitol with all the other tributes and an entire population for Finnick to woo. And I get to dress him in his interview costume ^.^_

_Enjoy._

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**Chapter Two: The Competition**

Compared to the train, the Justice Building looked like a house a child had made out of twigs and mud. On the platform, the large vehicle had looked ugly and unpleasant. But inside, the dull grey metal gave way to expensive mahogany wood panelling and carpet so thick and soft it felt like walking on blankets.

My room took up a whole carriage. It seemed to have been decorated just for me. The walls and carpet were complimenting blues and greens, both were darker than most people would like, but it gave the room the same murky quality as the sea. Everything else was white or cream, like the foam of breaking waves on the shore. The tables are decorated with little bowls on shells. It seemed like the Capitol were trying to make me feel at home as possible before they sent me to the arena. Not that I was complaining about the quality. If I was going to die, at least they gave me a few moments of luxury before.

Of course, the whole room was a waste of time. District 4 was close to the Capitol, and we wouldn't even spend the night on the train. Those few hours were the only hours I would spend there.

After I was dumped in my room, it was though I was forgotten about. Daphne had shut the door behind her with a beaming smile and a promise that she would be back soon to take me to meet Mags and Cade properly for the first time but it had been almost three hours and no one had reappeared.

I collapsed onto the white couch and thought. I had been doing that until I got bored of what was going on in my mind and decided to explore my room. But, pretty as though it may be, it couldn't keep me interested for more than half an hour. Besides, whether I was standing, sitting or lying down, I always ended up thinking about the Hunger Games and what horrors would await me.

It was a pointless exercise, trying to predict what the Gamemakers would do. A few things I knew were not going to happen. One was mountains and wastelands. That had been last year's theme, and I was pretty sure the Gamemakers would be executed for running the same arena style twice. Another was a lot of water. Not for any logical reason, I just knew that I wouldn't be lucky enough to have water. It was possible to have a forest or a desert. Both of those basic designs hadn't been used in years because the Capitol had decided they were 'unfashionable'. But fashions in the Capitol changed as quickly as I blinked.

_I really hope it's not a desert. I can't live without water._

The door opened and Daphne stuck her happy face in. I ran my hands through my hair in exasperation, was this woman _ever_ without a smile? It wasn't natural for someone to grin so much.

"Finnick!" she trills. "Here you are!"

_Yep, here I am. Right where you left me._ I bit back the sarcastic comment. After all, it was more useful to me if Daphne liked me. People who liked you were prepared to do far more to help you.

"Hey Daphne, am I needed somewhere?" I asked, replying to her smile with my own, dazzling one.

"Oh... um..." she stuttered, obviously flustered. "Yes. Mags and Cade want to go over the reapings. They're all about tactics! No fun ever."

"How terribly boring it must be to escort District 4, with those two as mentors." I stood up and strolled over to her.

"No, no! Not boring. Never boring," she hastened to reassure me as she led me into the main carriage where we would eat and 'socialise'. "Not when I have fantastic tributes like you to talk to."

"You're too kind, Daphne. Although you should have been promoted to a better District with your talents... and beauty," I added with a wink.

Her already ridiculously high voice rose an octave as she babbled on in her Capitol affected accent about how I gave her too much praise. I had to resist rolling my eyes. I found it easy to charm people naturally, but Daphne was even easier than most. Maybe it was something about the naivety of Capitol citizens.

Mags, Cade and Danty were already seated inside the room that Daphne led me to, gathered around a large TV mounted on the wall. It was obvious Danty had been crying recently. Her eyes were red rimmed and over-bright. Mags was alert. Cade seemed almost bored and he lounged in an armchair, making patterns on the velvet. As soon as I was seated on the last available chair, Mags shoved a pen and a notebook into my hand.

"Make notes on the ones you think will be a threat or be a challenge."

I nodded and she started the reaping. Daphne perched on the chair's arm and I sighed quietly. The trouble with being nice to people was that they assumed you liked them and didn't mind being close to them. I tried my best to ignore her intrusive presence by studying the other tributes. We watched in silence, apart from Daphne who giggled at all of the terrible jokes the commentators made.

District 1 and District 2 tributes were put on my list straight away. They were all trained Career tributes, especially the boy from 2, Demon, who had more muscle than a wild boar and a sharp look in his eye that told me his brains matched the brawn.

Surprisingly, the girl from 3, Millie, was a volunteer. District 3 was not a Career District and it was very rare for a volunteer. Millie, on the other hand, looked confident as she strode up the steps and took her place. She even smiled at her family. My confusion was cleared as the commentators informed us that she was the daughter of a victor from about ten years ago, who had killed almost half of the tributes in his Games. He had obviously passed down the killing streak to his daughter.

District 4's lack of volunteers drew the commentator's attention, but they said that it happened every few years. When my name was called, I was glad to see that I didn't look in the least bit troubled or scared. In fact, I looked as if I would have volunteered if I didn't get reaped. I couldn't help but smile at the shocked silence from the commentators and then a hushed 'wow'. I _did_ inspire that reaction in most people.

The tributes from District 5 and 6 had nothing special about them. They were all younger tributes. The girl from 5 burst into tears as her name was called, but no one stepped up. She had to be dragged off the stage by the peacekeepers. I hoped someone else killed her – I didn't want to kill anyone that innocent.

The boy from 7, Lian, was definitely worth watching. He was 17 and big. He walked with an uncharacteristic grace that was reminiscent of a stalking lion. His District partner was only 14, but she too was packed with muscle.

The tributes after that were the traditional weak, starved children. The ones who had their names submitted extra times for tesserae, the ones from the Districts that couldn't afford to feed their populations. The commentators easily brushed over the malnourished kids who were called up. They were slightly sympathetic at the twelve year old boy from 10 and the twelve year old girl from 12. Both wept openly when they were pushed onto the stages. The boy from 10 was screaming for his mother.

Mags turned the TV off as soon as the program ended.

"So," she said, facing us, "first things first. I'm guessing you want to be mentored separately?"

Danty and I glanced at each other uneasily before nodding. Neither of us wanted to let the other know our secrets.

Mags nodded to herself. "That's was I thought. And it shows you both have survival instinct, that's good. It's the thing that will keep you alive in the arena. Cade, you take Danty. I'll take Finnick." We separated. Mags continued as we settled on the other side of the room to Danty and Cade. "So, Finnick, who's the competition?"

"The tributes from Districts 1 and 2. The pair from District 7. Oh, and the girl who volunteered from 3."

"Who's the most dangerous?" she quizzed.

"Demon, from 2. He's got brains as well as being as big as a house."

Mags was quiet for a moment. "Well done on recognising Demon. You've got a problem with him, definitely. And for the others, they were obvious. You missed one who is going to cause you big problems, though. And slips like that are going to cost you your life in the arena. You need to stop seeing the brawn and look for the brains – those are the ones who kill the most people, though they may not win in the final fight."

"Um..." I pushed the hair from my eyes as I thought, but no tributes sprang to mind.

"The girl from 10, Hiefer." I couldn't even remember her face. "She's either going to be a great ally, or your worst enemy. Keep an eye on her, and you'll see what I mean."

I wrote down Hiefer and underlined it numerous times.

Mags continued to tell me about the simple strategies that each District automatically had, and how they could be used to my advantage. I listened to everything she said, shocked by how she could so easily dissect the Hunger Games. The more time I spent with her, the more I appreciated why tributes from District 4 lasted so long. She was _smart_, and she didn't hide the fact that if I got something wrong then I would die. The attitude made me respect her – more than I respected anyone else in my life. This woman had my life in her hands, and she actually seemed to want to preserve it.

While we talked, the table in the middle of the room was being laid for dinner. Capitol staff in simple white clothes placed extravagant meals that steamed gently. The smell alone made my mouth water. Obviously the Capitol treated tributes well. Before they put them all in an enclosed space and encouraged them to hack each other to death, of course.

"Food!" Daphne chirped. "Come eat while it's hot. Finnick! I've saved you a spot next to me." I almost felt bad that Danty had been completely ignored, but then again, I would have preferred to be ignored than seated next to the bubbly escort.

The plate in front of me was heaped full of delicacies from District 4. Lobster – which the Capitol claimed as soon as they were caught – with orange and ginger and sides of seaweed bread fried in garlic were the main dishes, and it tasted even better than the cake Dad had bought that afternoon. The fish we ate at home was the least desirable of catch, and was usually chewy and tasteless. But the lobster was high quality. Just the tail would buy dinner for a week at any market in Panem.

"What do you think of the food? Lobster has never been my favourite – you should try sushi. There is one restaurant in the Capitol that I will have to take you to. It does the best seafood in the whole country! And the sushi is to die for, especially the salmon and avocado. It's marvellous," Daphne gushed beside me, barely touching her plate of food. She checked the big clock on the wall and talked to the whole table – who were eating in silence. "We'll be in the Capitol soon, only an hour left. Once we get there it will be straight to your stylists. "

"Who _are_ our stylists?" Danty asked. It was the first time I had actually heard her speak, and I blinked in shock. Her voice wasn't girly and light, it was deep and rough. If I didn't know who was speaking, I would assume it was a boy.

"Xenya and Fenya again." Daphne didn't elaborate, like she would have if I asked the question. Danty didn't look like she cared, and went back to eating her food.

Xenya and Fenya were like Daphne – immensely popular in the Capitol and given District 4 as soon as they expressed a wish to be stylists. They were a brother and sister pair who never appeared anywhere without one another. Numerous surgical alterations had made them identical apart from the letters tattooed on their cheeks so the public could determine which was which.

Cade looked at us. "Make sure you get the stylist on your side. What they dress you in will swing the public's first impressions of you. No matter what they do to you, put on you in and say to you, you will _not_ complain. Xenya and Fenya are very... easily upset and they hold grudges, so be as nice and charming as you can."

Charming was easy for me. It was much easier to be charming than it was to be truthful, and people – especially Capitol people – couldn't tell the difference. A few compliments about their bizarre looks here, a few cheeky winks and smirks there, and they were falling over themselves to give you everything they owned. Yeah, charming was easy.

"Now, we spend five days in the Capitol, and while we're there you need to weed out the competition. You're both District 4, so you'll be accepted by the Career tributes. Accept any invitation they give you, you don't want to piss them off. Get them on your side, while making as many friends within the other Districts as possible. The more people like you, the less inclined they'll be to kill you. It means you stay in the game longer because they would rather kill someone else than you. But remember to woo the Capitol too, don't forget them. They're just as important as any tribute," Cade continued. It was okay advice, but there was something bothering me about it.

"I hadn't realised that your life depended on your social skills in the arena. It always seemed that the person best with weapons won," I muttered.

Daphne giggled impishly while Mags fixed me with a steely stare. "You should know, Finnick, the advantage good connections give you. The Games are not run by the tributes; they are run by the Gamemakers, who are controlled by President Snow, who does what the people in the Capitol want him to. If they want you to do well, then you will, no matter if you can decapitate someone fifty metres away with a knife. Don't ever forget that."

My cheeks burned unpleasantly as the woman chastised me. She strongly reminded me of my mother before she died. Not that I could remember much about my mother except the fact that she knew everything, and wouldn't hesitate to correct me if I was wrong. She even spoke like Mags did – patient but sharp, nice but you could hear the message she was trying to tell you. The resemblance was uncanny and made me duck my head back to my plate instead of cockily answering back like I usually would.

"And they give us sponsors," Daphne adds.

Cade smiled. "Don't worry about the sponsors. It's Daphne's job to get them interested, and then Mags and I get to decide what to do with all the money. You just sit back and enjoy the gifts we send."

The kitchen staff came back in to clear out empty plates and replace them with bowls filled with sweet fruits, a strange, sugary white thing (that Daphne informed me was called meringue), cream and strawberry sauce. I started salivating before I even put the first spoonful in my mouth.

"I love the train journeys," Cade muttered under his breath as he dug in.

Mags murmured her agreement, her mouth full with sugar.

"That was amazing," I moaned as I finished. I almost asked for more, before I realised I could pretty much feel my teeth rotting.

Daphne put a hand on my arm. "Wait until you get to the Capitol, this food is _nothing_ compared to what's waiting."

I smiled, realising that I would have to shake this woman off my somehow before she started trying to climb into bed with me. As much as I needed her to like me, there was a point at which I would stop smiling and start trying to ward her off with a ten foot long pole.

"When do we get to Capitol?" _Please be soon so I can avoid our escort easier,_ I prayed.

Daphne let go of my arm – _thank God_ – so she could look at the clock. "Only half an hour."

"You're lucky that we're only coming from District 4. Some Districts, like 11 and 12 have about two days on the train going there. You'll have a whole day to be prepped before your stylist take over," Mags adds.

I thought about the last few Districts. They never have many victors, and when they do it's usually by pure chance. They're given the newest stylists, the newest and most unpopular escorts, and they're so underfed that it's amazing they're able to move without collapsing. The poor things never last long. I remembered the twelve year old tributes from 10 and 12. They would probably die first. Too young to have enough experience to keep them alive, and even smaller and weaker than most five year olds from the wealthier Districts.

We finished dessert in silence and then drifted back to where we were sitting before. Mags gave me a few more pointers on what to do when I meet my stylists (she said it will probably be Xenya as he usually does the boy tributes), told me not to talk to the reporters at the station, and then we just sat in silence until the train drew up at the station.

Before we disembark, Cade reminded us our how important first impressions were. I fixed my most winning smile to my face and walked out with Daphne – the extremely popular escort – clinging to my arm.

I couldn't help but be a little smug as all the cameras zoomed in on my face and the reporters shoved their microphones in my face, asking for my opinions. I kept quiet, as instructed by Mags, but still smiled and winked at all the cameras we passed.

If only the Hunger Games were based on popularity. I could win them in a heartbeat.

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_Thanks for reading_

_Please leave a review? *puppy eyes*_

_~Charlotte-LOVE- xxx_


	3. The Opening Ceremonies

_I'm back at school, which means I can't write as much as I want, and I barely have any time/enthusiasm to edit. Sorry about that._

_Anyhoo, please keep reading and reviewing, even though the updates aren't as frequent._

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games, that belongs to Suzanne Collins._

_Enjoy :)_

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**Chapter Three: The Opening Ceremonies**

Thankfully, my prep team declared me 'perfect' after only three hours. Apparently it usually took six or seven until the tributes were at 'beauty base zero'. Of course, the time I did spend with them wasn't very relaxing.

After they had scrubbed three layers off my skin with a sweet smelling, acidic soap, they sat me down in a rotating chair and started on my hair, face, nails, feet, toenails, eyelashes, eyebrows... They seemed to inspect every single millimetre of my body and readjust it before moving onto another part and doing the same thing. My chest was waxed completely, my eyebrows plucked and the stubble that was starting to grow on my cheeks was shaved off until it felt like there was no hair left on my face.

My prep team talked constantly whilst they were stripping me bare. Surie – the younger girl with the large, bright pink circles over her cheeks and the eyebrows that were so high they almost disappeared into her hairline – was the most talkative of the three, however this was only because she was never quiet long enough for the other two to get a word in. Out of all of them, Sparroh was my favourite. He was just as grotesquely modified as Surie and Narla – who had her orange hair spiked up in a bizarre circle around her face, and orange lips to match – but his swirling blue, green and white tattoos reminded me of the sea so strongly that I automatically liked him. Also his eyes were the most beautiful dark green, just like Ariel's.

"Surie, sweetie!" Narla trilled in her sing-song voice, even more affected than Daphne's, "watch out for darling Finnick's eyelashes! We don't want those to be trimmed off, do we?"

She beamed at me and I weakly smiled back. So far Narla had called me 'darling Finnick', 'adorable Finnick', 'our Finnick', 'Mr. Gorgeous Odair' and 'Finnick-ie'. I wasn't sure whether she addressed everyone like that, or whether she was just sucking up. Surie was just as baffling, she asked questions that she obviously didn't want answered, but then would be offended when you didn't answer an 'important' one. Although Daphne was weird, she was understandable; these Capitol people confused the hell out of me.

Narla sighed as she ran her hands through my hair. I tried to ignore her three-inch, orange nails as she did this. I had been told not to protest, and I was doing an admirable job. I had managed to keep my mouth shut when Narla and Sparroh had argued about what the sun was. I _knew_ that Capitol children went to school until they were sixteen, and then led a normal Capitol life. What did they learn in those years at school?

"Xenya has such great plans for you!" Surie continued. "He changed his design completely when he saw what he had to work with, but you needn't worry about not looking as good as the other tributes. The new design is _perfect_ for you."

"Give me a clue?" _Please don't be naked, please don't be naked._

Narla tittered as she spread warm wax on the skin under my eyebrow. "We're not ruining the surprise, Finnick love, it won't be fun anymore if you know." She ripped the wax off and I bit back a loud curse. "But don't you worry, you'll look gorgeous."

Sparroh had started cutting my hair while Narla was talking, and it was all I could do not to turn and hit the scissors out of his hands. I _liked_ my hair long. Dad used to drag me to get my hair cut every year but he gave up once I was old enough to argue against it. The other two stood back and watched, giving Sparroh a few comments and critiques as he worked, but apart from that were abnormally silent.

Finally, Sparroh went to join them. They all stood back and smiled proudly at each other.

"He is _perfect_," Narla sighed.

"Xenya is going to be so proud of us."

"Ooh! Let's bring Xenya in! Let's bring Xenya in!" Surie seemed on the edge of an apoplectic fit as she bounced to the door. "I'll go fetch him right now."

With Surie gone, Narla and Sparroh suddenly became much more talkative. They both circled me in a predatory way, looking for stray pieces of hair or bits of dust.

At one point, Narla grabbed my face and inspected it closely, tapping her nails against my cheek. "I can't wait until the Games are over. If you win, Finnick, we could do all sorts of modifications to you. What would you most like us to do? When I was your age, I always wanted a layer of gold across my skin. Impossible of course – that much gold is a nightmare to keep clean! I would have had to get it redone every other day!"

Sparroh laughed. "I wanted wings. I would watch the birds and think of how lucky they are to be able to fly. Then I got more sensible – why would I ever want to leave the Capitol? I have everything I want here! I settled with a coloured-skin graft. Best decision of my life! I can jut recolour myself every week, and I'm in fashion."

"What about you, Finnick?" Narla asked. "The Capitol surgeons would be happy to do _anything_ to anyone who looked as attractive as you. They love enhancing natural beauty."

"I... Um... I guess I've never really thought about it." The truth was that I thought the Capitol citizens looked like freaks. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to do that to themselves.

Sparroh patted my shoulder sympathetically. "Of course not. My heart bleeds for you people who live in the districts. You just don't have the same opportunity as we do. But once you win you'll be able to do practically anything!"

"I'll just have to win then," I said with a little too much sarcasm. Thankfully, neither Narla nor Sparroh seemed to notice because Surie had come bounding back in with Xenya following. They both leapt away from me to allow him an unobstructed view.

I warily got to my feet as Xenya stalked around me, inspecting me much more thoroughly than my prep team had. Xenya could only be recognised from Fenya because of the black 'X' tattooed on his cheek. Apart from that, he and his twin were identical from the tips of their silver hair and webbed hands down to the plastic boots they always wore. His teeth were all slightly pointed, and his eyes were slanted downwards.

"Excellent work, team," he said. Behind him, the three bubbleheads beamed and clapped their hands together before scurrying out of the room whilst complimenting themselves. Xenya motioned for me to sit down before continuing. "As my team probably informed you – Fenya and I have changed our designs. We _were_ going to do a full-body suit after last year's tributes" – he shuddered slightly as if the memory of the two, well fed tributes disgusted him – "but once we saw _you_, we decided to change our perspective completely."

He opened a cupboard door with such a dramatic flourish I was half-expecting President Snow to be hiding among the coats. Instead, there was one hanger on the rail. I stared at the garment hanging off it. It was one pair of skin-tight shorts that looked only to come down to my mid-thigh, covered in shimmering green/blue scales. And that was it.

"Do you see what you're going to be?"

_An idiot wearing practically nothing?_ I shook my head.

"A fish!" Xenya exclaimed.

I wondered vaguely if he had ever seen a fish. I had to believe he hadn't – because I had never even _heard_ of a fish that only had scales covering his private parts. But I ignored this fact and smiled at Xenya as if he was the most intelligent man on the planet.

"So, slip this on, and I'll make a start on the body paint."

"Body paint?"

"Of course, have you ever seen a fish with no scales? Hurry up now, I don't want to be standing here talking to you."

He stripped me of my thin robe and handed me the shorts. Once they were on, I was instructed to stand in the middle of the room while he called my prep team back in to start work on the rest of me.

The next hour was a whirl of shimmering powder, body paint and small gems that stuck easily to my skin. I was dusted with dark blue powder and then Xenya began painting green lines that continued from my shorts. The prep team busied themselves with drawing miniature fish swimming up my arms and legs.

_At least I'm not naked_, I thought glumly to myself as Surie painted another design onto the side of my face.

By the time they were done my legs ached from standing so long. Xenya ordered me to look in the mirror and my mouth dropped. I needed to give my prep team and stylist more credit – though they were stupid and grotesque, they had made me into a work of art. The blue powder made my body look like the sea, and the hundreds of tiny, orange fishes on my arms and legs added to this effect. But the most stunning part was the huge green fish that began on my left leg and twisted up to my torso. The shorts melted into the rest of the fish's scaled body so perfectly that you could barely see the hems.

"Wow. This is amazing." I twisted to look at my back, admiring the way the scales caught the light. On my back there were a few orange and red fish that seemed to be swimming in lazy circles.

"Wow," I said again.

"You like it?" Surie gushed.

"Definitely. You guys are amazing."

My prep team jumped up and down, screaming at the compliments. Sparroh appeared to be on the verge of tears as he tried to hug me – and then remembered that he couldn't because of the decorations.

Xenya checked the big clock on the wall and said, "Well, we finished a bit later that I expected. The opening ceremonies will be starting soon, and you have to go down with Danty."

Although I didn't particularly care about Danty, I was happy to see that Fenya had made her look as good as me. We both admired each other's fish – hers was a silver dolphin surrounded by small purple designs – before getting whisked to the bottom of the Remake Centre. We climbed onto our chariot – pulled by two grey horses – as Xenya and Fenya fussed over smudged paint and uneven powder.

I inspected the other districts as they walked into the room and to their horses. District 1 and 2 were dressed as well as we were. District 1 were wearing robes made entirely out of small gems, with more jewels planted into their hair. District 2 had been painted entirely grey, wearing shorts and loose tops with marble effects printed on them. I nodded to them as they passed our chariot and they smiled back.

The others were not dressed nearly as well as us, and it was hard to miss the envious glances they were shooting at us. District 3 appeared to be wearing huge balls of copper wire. District 8 had patchwork tunics that hung like sacks on their bodies. District 11 had apples strapped to their heads. I felt my confidence rise by several degrees as I looked at the others. If their stylists were that dreadful, then how good could their mentors be?

The huge doors slid open, and music blared into the enclosure. The horses were remarkably well trained and didn't even bat an eyelid at the noise. District 1 rode out to loud cheers from the Capitol audience, as did District 2. District 3 got moderate cheers, but you could still hear the citizens shouting the names of the District 1 and 2 tributes.

Our horses started forward once District 3 was out of the door. I grabbed hold of the chariot basket for support, squeezing the woven material tightly. And then we were out onto the road, and the crowd's cheers started up louder than ever. I beamed at the audience, waving at them with my free hand. Once I had regained my balance I let go of the basket and waved with both hands, winking and blowing kisses at the Capitol ladies. From each side I could hear my name being yelled. One glance at the massive screens all over the city concreted my knowledge – I looked amazing. In the bright city lights I shone like the sun. The small fish on my body danced whenever I moved a muscle.

The chariot entered the City Circle and I began waving and smiling with a new found energy. The people who were now lining the streets and watching from the houses' windows were the most prestigious people in the Capitol. They were the ones who made the _big_ donations to tributes in the arena. And they were the ones who were shouting my name the loudest.

The cheers, music and laughter faded as the tributes stopped and faced President Snow's mansion. A thin man stepped up onto the balcony and began his traditional Hunger Games speech. It was amazing that that one, frail looking man was the ruler of Panem. He didn't look like he should be able to lead a country.

As the remainder of daylight faded, President Snow ended his speech and disappeared from the balcony, allowing the tributes one last lap around the City Circle before disappearing back into the Remake Centre.

My legs felt like jelly as I stepped off the chariot. My arms were leaden and dead from all the waving. Danty appeared in much the same state as me. Our paint was smudged and the powder was wearing thin.

"We were the best there," I murmured to her as Daphne, Mags and Cade swept us to our Capitol 'home'.

"We were," she agreed. We went to our rooms without saying another word.


	4. Training

_Evening everyone... Finally got round to editing chapter 4._

_Little update on life – I'm reading 'Gone' by Michael Grant (which I recommend, because it's awesome) and rereading Harry Potter after watching Deathly Hallows and building Hogwarts castle out of my old LEGO :D That was a pointless fact._

_Someone asked if you were going to get to Danty in the next chapters. This is about as close as the two of them are going to get. It is mentioned in 'Hunger Games' that most tributes aren't that close to each other, and it's not surprising if they don't know each other and know that one, maybe both, are going to die. So sorry, I'm sticking to this version of District partners, and you aren't really going to get to know her._

_I don't own the Hunger Games – Suzanne Collins does. :)_

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**Chapter Four: Training**

Danty and I only met briefly when we came down to eat. She was just as sullen as normal, though the prominent bags under her eyes had faded slightly. We exchanged a few polite greeting before Mags arrived to take me away.

"Good luck today," I said as I was leaving.

She smiled slightly and nodded at me. "You too."

Mags led me to a small room with cushioned chairs and a table with cups of coffee on it. I reached for one, but Mags pushed my arm aside.

"You won't have coffee in the arena. You won't have any sort of brain-stimulant in there. The training you're doing today is meant to prepare you for your time in the arena, so you have to act like you would in the arena. You will be tired, accept that and move on with the combat."

I crossed my arms and pouted slightly.

Mags ignored me a continued. "So what weapon are you best with?"

"A trident," I answered immediately.

"Okay then, today you need to work with everything but a trident. You already know how to use one. Go with the weapons you don't know – swords, maces, spears, knives. They're the ones that are going to be in the Cornucopia. Make sure they're deadly – don't waste your time with weight lifting."

An avox girl arrived with a tray brimming with food. I kept eye contact with Mags as I reached for a bread roll, but she didn't stop me this time.

"Stick to the Careers. Get to know them. Give them advice. Make them believe that although you didn't volunteer, you are just as deadly as them."

"And tomorrow?"

"It depends. If can you can, learn a few survival skills. Edible plants and things like that. But there is a large chance that the Careers will invite you to spend the day with them again. If they do ask, go with them. You don't want to offend them if they are most likely going to kill you."

The bread was good. It was roughly the same as the loaves we had at home, but it dough was softer and the seaweed had a more subtle taste. It probably came from one of the upper-class bakeries close to the town centre.

"Should I ever use a trident?"

"During the private sessions with the Gamemakers. Show them what you can really do then – but don't let anyone know. If there is a trident in the arena, it will be good to have it as your secret weapon." Mags paused while she filled a plate with eggs and toast. We ate in silence for a little while and then she asked, "So what are you doing today?"

"I'm learning deadly weapons and cosying up to the Careers."

"Excellent. Now go back to your rooms and get dressed in whatever Xenya has left for you."

The clothes that had been left out for me were simple. A dark blue t-shirt made of soft cotton and black trousers that provided excellent mobility. I grinned when I noticed the fish designs around the hem of the t-shirt. Apparently my general style was 'fish-boy'.

Danty was dressed similarly but not identical. Her plain purple top was decorated with fish, like mine. Someone had scraped back all of her hair in a high bin at the back of her head. It didn't compliment her face much.

The elevator ride was quick, and in seemingly no time at all we were standing in the ring of tributes, listening to the head trainer's instructions. We could go to any station in any order. Mingle with any other tribute. But if we hurt a tribute, there would be serious repercussions. He stopped talking a gestured for us all to leave and go about our business.

I followed the Career pack to the weapons section of the gym, and experimentally pick up a spear. It was lighter than my trident, but appeared to operate in the same way. I raised my arm and aimed for the dummy. The spear punctured its belly and smiled in satisfaction. If they had spears in the arena, I would be fine. I grabbed another one, which pierced the dummy's head. The third went through its neck and the forth stabbed into its heart. All of them were kill shots. I went to retrieve the weapons, and noticed with satisfaction that some of the Careers were edging towards me.

Jewel was the first one to approach me openly. She was sweating slightly, and her hair was stuck to the edges of her face.

"You've been working hard," I said pleasantly to start the conversation.

She grinned. "I've barely started yet." She picked up a sheath of knives and tied it round her hips. I watched with wide eyes as she grabbed three in both hands flicked her wrists, sending them flying towards the practice dummy. I winced slightly as one dug into the eye.

"That's amazing," I said, faking awe. I could do so much more with a trident.

She shrugged and patted my arm. "I saw what you can do with spears. _That_ is a talent."

"Can you teach me how to do what you just did with those knives? I've never seen anything like it." Flattery always got people on your side. Mags would be proud of me.

"Sure." She passed me one of the knives. "Hold it lightly – don't grasp it. It'll never leave your hand like that. Keep the bottom of the handle tucked under your little finger. And then just... flick." Her knife shot forward and lodged into the dummy. I tried, but mine fell uselessly onto the ground. I retrieved it. Jewel stepped closer to me and adjusted my hand position. This time, the knife hit the dummy's chest and then fell down, creating a long wound down to its stomach.

"Perfect," Jewel said and applauded me. I grinned and bowed.

We stuck together after that, practising a few more knife and spear throws. She led me over to the section with the maces, spiked clubs and – to my pleasure - tridents, where her district partner, Bryd was talking with Demon, from District 2. They were both friendly enough and asked if I knew how to use any of the deadly weapons behind them. When I lied and said I'd never tried, they immediately started showing me the proper techniques, revelling in the chance to show off. I tried to keep my face calm as I watched Demon handle a thirty-kilo war hammer as if it was a feather and then completely take off a dummy's head, while inwardly thinking how gruesome the Games are going to be if there was a hammer in the arena. Cloud, the other girl from 2, joined us with a bow in hand. She proved to be lethal at shooting, hitting moving targets from over fifty feet away.

"So what are you good at?" she asked scornfully once she destroyed all the archery targets. "I haven't seen you do anything apart from throw a few spears."

Jewel, Bryd and Demon looked at me curiously. I shrugged, trying to think about what I could say without mentioning a trident. "Well, as of today, I can throw knives and break bones using a spiked club."

"You can't do anything else?"

I was about to tell her that I could cook an amazing fish stew, but then I stopped. Mags had told me not use a trident but I didn't see what other option I had. The Careers weren't going to want me around if I was a hindrance. Besides, what were the chances of a trident being in the Games? They'd never been used before. With a sigh, I grabbed the heaviest, deadliest trident on the rack and strode over to a row of sandbags hanging from the ceiling.

Fishing with a trident and fighting with a trident were extremely similar. The exact same jabbing motion that was used for spearing fish was used for attacking an opponent. The heavy piece of metal on the end of the handle that was usually used for hitting fish's heads so they died could be used to smash an attacker's skull. I demonstrated this, and more, until the five sandbags were just small heaps of dirt and scraps of cloth on the ground.

"I can do more than that," I said when I was finished. "But there isn't anything left to practice on." I casually leaned on the trident while my breathing returned to normal.

They stared at me with eyes as wide as saucers. There was no doubt about it – I was in with the Careers.

"Can your district partner do that?" Bryd asked at last.

I looked around the gym to find Danty. She was working silently at the camouflage station with the District 7 tributes. Although I didn't have any feelings towards my partner, I didn't want to leave her stranded and alone. I opened my mouth to tell Bryd that she could and should join us, when I realised I wouldn't be doing her a favour. She came from the poorer part of District 4, where they only fished with nets. She wouldn't be able to use a spear, a trident or a harpoon. If she was with Careers in the arena they would turn on her and kill her immediately. It was unlikely – but possible – that Danty would win if she was left to her own devices. Sometimes the quiet, sneaky ones won. But she had no hope of winning with the Careers.

"No, she can't. Leave her be – she'd just be a hindrance." The Careers shrugged their acceptance and went back to swinging weapons.

At lunch, the tributes ate with each other in the big cafeteria next to the gym. The food was just as good as all the other meals I had had in the Capitol. I didn't get a chance to think about whether I should sit with Danty or my new allies because as soon as we were in the room, Jewel clutched my elbow and steered me towards the biggest table with the other Careers. I tried to smile at Danty as she walked past, but she either didn't see me or ignored me. The conversation was standard Hunger Games stuff – our costumes last night, the upcoming interviews, the training scores we were hoping to get, what the arena will be like, the other tributes – but it was different to the conversations with Mags I'd had. Those were all about strategy and defence, with an undercurrent of fear. The Careers couldn't wait for the Games to start; they were all excited about what might happen in the arena this year. They were very openly competitive with each other too. As they talked there seemed to be a psychological battle going on as each of them tried to make everyone else uncomfortable. It was the most fun I had had in a long time.

Mags met me at the elevator at the end of training. I told her that I'd used a trident to win the Careers, and she didn't seem to mind that much. She said she hadn't expected me to follow all of her rules anyway.

At dinner, Cade and Mags instructed me and Danty about the training session tomorrow.

"You need to swap places," Cade said. "So today, you" – he pointed at Danty – "worked at the survival stations while you" – he pointed to me – "worked with weapons. Tomorrow you need to swap over. There's no point going into the arena with only one set of skills. What if you get into a one-on-one fight with another tribute, Danty? And what happens when the Careers break up and you have to survive on your own, Finnick?"

"What if the Careers don't want me to do them?"

"Then go on your own. Tell them that your mentors ordered you to. Make up an excuse and then learn what plants are edible."

"But Mags said not to upset the tributes."

Mags shook her head. "Cade and I were talking to today and we decided you both need equal skills. So you're both going to try different things tomorrow?"

Danty and I nodded.

"Good," she said. "You better get some rest."

I did as I was instructed the next day. After a brief discussion, Jewel and Demon joined me at the survival stations while Cloud and Bryd stayed with the weapons. The day was uneventful compared to the day before. I learned a few basic skills – such as how to snare animals, how to tell the difference between an edible mushroom and a poisonous one, and the correct method of using mud to camouflage yourself. Jewel loved the camouflage station, saying that she used to paint in her free time in Distrct 1. Demon worked silently at each of the stations and he was the best at all of them. I started to regret asking for some company; Demon was gaining skills that would make him a formidable enemy.

At lunch I discovered that Cloud had invited the girl from District 9, Alys, to join us.

"She's amazing with a sword and knows a lot about the other tributes," Cloud said as Alys sat down. "She'll be a great help."

"Where did you learn to use a sword?" I asked. District 9 didn't usually produce anything worthwhile in the Hunger Games – too much poverty.

"My Uncle had one. He never told me where he got it, but I used to practice with it when we both had a spare moment."

"You're welcome here, then," I said and grinned. She blushed and looked at the table before looking back.

"Where did you learn to fight like you did yesterday? I was watching you... with the trident. It was amazing."

"Just from fishing. As long as you know how to hold a trident in the right way, you can do practically anything with it. I'd never tried properly fighting with it until yesterday."

"That makes it even more impressive."

"I _am_ very impressive." Alys laughed and then was swept up with today's topic of conversation: the private session.

There wasn't much point in keeping my strategy a secret. I was going to go in and bash some dummies with a trident and then throw some spears. The others all had pretty clear strategies. Jewel was going to do knife-throwing, Alys was going to demonstrate how to wield a sword. Demon didn't say what he was going to do, but it probably involved bludgeoning a few sacks of straw.

After lunch, Alys joined Jewel and me at the survival stations. Demon had gone back to the weapons section with the other two.

The last station we went to was the one I enjoyed most. Unluckily, it was completely useless. _Why on earth would you need knot-tying in the arena?_ I thought as the trainer applauded my work. But as pointless as it was, I excelled at it.

A loud voice coming from the speaker announced to the room that training was over for the day and all the tributes started packing up slowly. I noticed Danty – covered in sweat – heaving a huge battle axe back on the stand. Maybe she had picked up some skills that would keep her alive.

I waited for her to finish packing and then walked with her to the elevator.

"How was your day?" I asked in an effort to start a conversation. After all, we still had a few more days before we were going to be forced to kill each other.

"Good." Obviously I wasn't going to be able to get much out of her today, but I persevered.

"Which weapons did you try out? I saw you with the axe at the end of training."

"Only the axe and the spear. But the axe was too heavy for me to do much with, so it wasn't useful. I'm okay with a spear though."

"That's good. I'm terrible at all the survival skills apart from knot-tying. Which, I'm sure, is going to be a great help in the arena."

She laughed slightly and I felt like patting myself on the back. "I was useless at knot-tying. But I liked the other things."

"So what are your plans for the private sessions?"

"I haven't decided yet," she said evasively.

"Is it a secret?" I grinned. "If it is – I'm really good at keeping secrets; you don't need to worry about me telling anyone." I winked.

"I would tell you if it was," she sighed. "But I really don't know. I'm probably just going to swing a spear around a bit and then tell them which plants are safe to eat."

I smiled kindly at her as the elevator doors slid open. "You'll do fine, don't worry about it."

"Thanks, but you don't need to lie. I know I'm not going to win. I just want to die quick and easy."

"That's a pessimistic view. It's the Hunger Games, and you're from District 4. You've definitely got a chance."

Before she could reply, Mags and Cade were hurrying us in different directions to talk about our tactics. I still caught her brief smile before she turned the corner.


	5. Private Sessions

_Short chapter this time!_

_He will be in the arena SOON, I promise. I just need to get all of the pre-Hunger Games stuff out of the way. Anyway, a few chapters of character develop are useful for me. I've never written anyone like Finnick (which is probably obvious)._

_In the process of writing the next chapter. It's probably going to be longer because I want to get him into the arena, so pretty much all of the Interviews/Costumes/Scores are going to be in Chapter 6._

_I don't own the Hunger Games – Suzanne Collins does._

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**Chapter Five: Private Sessions**

I gave Danty a small pat on the back as I stood up to enter the gym. She just kept staring at the plain white wall. Alys gave me the thumbs up, as she had to the other Careers, but also gave me a big smile. We had become quite close friends during the training sessions; I hoped I wasn't going to be the one that killed her.

The private sessions were held in the same gymnasium that training had been in, except everything had been moved to the edges of the room, leaving a big open space in the middle. The Gamemakers occupied the same balcony that they had before, however they were joined by a massive banquet table today, which was covered by mountains of food. Most of them put down the food they had been eating when I came in and moved closer to the railing.

I smiled up at them and the Head Gamemaker this year – whose name I hadn't been told – smiled back, and waved for me to start. I grabbed the trident I had used two days ago, a few spears and throwing knives and pulled a row of dummies into the centre of the room. I was pleased to note that all of the Gamemakers' eyes were trained on me.

The first thing I did was throw the knives like Jewel taught me. It wasn't very impressive and I only technically 'killed' a few. The spears were a lot of more successful. They all hit central points of the dummies – their hearts, bellies, heads, and necks – but it was still average for the Career tributes of the Hunger Games and I could see the Gamemakers creeping back to the food.

_Okay, time to show them what I can really do._

I strode towards the dummies, the trident comfortably gripped in my hand. The first dummy had a spear sticking out of its stomach and a knife clinging in its arm. The points of my trident ripped that arm straight off and sent it flying across the gym. Following it was the leg and the other arm. I shoved the trident into its belly and, on the way out, the barbed tips caught on the 'flesh', which opened the wound further and sent sand cascading to the floor like blood.

I decapitated the second one in less than ten seconds. The third one had a knife sticking into its eye, which I shoved deeper into its brain with a quick movement. I sliced the forth one in half. The neck of the fifth was caught between two of the trident's prongs and I twisted it until the head flew off. The back bone of the sixth was shattered. The seventh, and last, I decided just to rip is to shreds as I was just running out of options.

I backed away from the dummies and threw the trident back into its stand before casually going to stand in front of the Gamemakers, kicking a few scraps of sand and material away from me.

They were all crowded around the banisters, the food lying completely forgotten. The Head Gamemaker gestured for me to leave, and I caught a hint of a smile around his lips. The others slowly went back to their food, as I left the gym, muttering quietly to each other.

Waiting on the other side of the door was Mags and Cade.

"How did you do?" Mags asked.

"Good, I think. They look impressed, at least. Can we go back to the rooms? I want to sit down."

"We're waiting for Danty first. Did you do anything else apart from using a trident?"

"I threw some knives and spears to show some versatility. It wasn't as successful as the trident though, I don't think they were very impressed by it."

"It's good that you did it," Cade chimed in. "Some years, if a tribute shows an amazing talent with only one weapon, they'll take care not to have that weapon in the arena. Just to give that one a tough time. You might have spared yourself that fate."

He remained silent after that, watching the door intently. Mags questioned me furiously about every single minute however, telling me what I did well and I could have done better. I listened more than talked – preoccupied by what Cade had said. What if the Gamemakers did specifically withhold spears and tridents in the arena? I wouldn't survive more than a few days.

Danty emerged looking pale, her mouth was set in a thin line and tears were obvious in her eyes. Cade put his arm round her and swept her away from us, Mags reached out and gave her a small pat on the arm.

"Why's she so upset?"

Mags looked back at me, and I was shocked at the expression of sorrow on her face.

"Not everyone does well in the Hunger Games, Finnick. Sometimes they realise that they... aren't going to win."

What she really meant rang clear in my head as we walked slowly back to the elevator.

_Sometimes they realise that they are going to die._


	6. The Scores, The Clothes, The Interviews

_Much longer chapter this time. Finnick's the arena in the next chapter! Wooo! Sorry if this one seems a little rushed, I tried to fit in everything into a reasonable-sized chapter. I hope it worked._

_I'm feeling a little depressed. I reread an original story I started a while ago, and the writing is so much better than me now! (The plot is terrible, but my writing style was so different.) I thought I was improving, but it turns out I'm going backwards. Only I can do that. ¬¬_

_On the other hand, I have worked out what I've started doing wrong (using compound sentences) and I'm going to focus on improving that. Plus, I actually know how to use semi-colons and colons now! I've been trying to work them out for a while._

_**The Hunger Games and its characters belong to Suzanne Collins.**_

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**Chapter Six: The Scores, The Clothes, The Interviews**

On the night of the interviews, Danty and I sat together – rewatching the scores. Neither of us had seen Cade or Mags all day as our prep teams had been working on us since we rolled out of bed that morning. Danty's skin was red and raw all over from the waxing. Thankfully, I'd been spared that ordeal, though Narla had spent a while giving me strange injections that she said were to 'stop all that icky hair from growing back in the arena'. I didn't care whether a few beard hairs sprouted out in the next few weeks of hell and those injections had hurt like hell.

The Capitol anthem blared out for the large speakers and the Capitol seal flashed on the screen. This was the fourth time I had watched the footage now.

Profile shots of each of the tributes were displayed first, with their name and district number underneath. Then a single photo appeared of the tributes in district ascending order; Bryd and Jewel both got nines, Demon got a ten, Cloud scored nine. The tributes from three got six and eight. My picture from the Opening Ceremonies flashed with a ten underneath it. Danty got a five. The next few districts got a low range of scores. Alys got a nine, and Hiefer from District 10 also scored ten. I wondered again what she had done to impress the judges. The twelve year old girl from 12, Zoe, and the thirteen year old tribute from 5, Kaye, both got threes, the lowest scores overall.

Zoe's face and training score faded from the screen; the Capitol seal appeared once more and the footage ended.

"Good luck tonight," Danty said.

She'd been remarkably brave compared to her small breakdown after the private sessions. She didn't cry when she got a five when we watched the scores live with Panem, in fact, she half-smiled and started a quiet conversation with Cade. After we watched it together, she'd started talking to me and opening up a little.

"Do you know what Fenya and Xenya are putting us in tonight?"

"I know what Fenya's dressing me in – but it's only because she made a fuss about redesigning when Cade told her my angle."

"Which is?"

"Sweet and innocent and undeserving of this terrible fate." She rolled her eyes. "It was Cade's idea – I couldn't do anything else. What's yours?"

"Whatever I come out with," I answer evasively. I do actually know what I'm doing, but the more people who know my secrets, the less secret they are.

Sparroh flung open the door and beckoned me back to the preparation room.

I groaned as I stood up and followed him, wishing Danty luck as the door swung shut behind me.

The white walls of my prep room were really starting to make me feel ill. I hadn't had any pleasurable experiences in there, and my 'sweet' prep team were starting to get on my nerves. Xenya and I hadn't been getting on either, and despite Mags' instructions not to get on my stylist's bad side, I couldn't help but argue with him over _everything_. He hadn't dressed me in a bin bag, though. Yet.

My interview outfit was more conservative than the sequinned shorts. It was a good-looking sea coloured suit that made me look smart and intelligent. I didn't really understand why, as my approach was meant to be flirtatious. Maybe Mags had changed her mind and decided to play me as quick-witted or something along those lines, to show I was more than a pretty face. Whatever the motivation behind my costume, it looked good.

"Thanks guys," I said hollowly to my prep team – who squealed like pigs at the compliments. I had to stop myself from wincing. Maybe I would die in the arena, but at least I wouldn't have to listen to anyone from the Capitol.

Xenya straightened the shoulders of the suit. "Don't move your arms too much, it will crease the suit," was his parting comment to me before he ushered me out of the door to join Mags.

"I thought the stylists went with their tributes to the interviews," I said as we met up with others at the elevator – without Xenya and Fenya.

"They don't usually walk with us, they take their own car. After all, they aren't actually needed until after the show. The only time they come with us is when there's a particularly elaborate outfit that needs to be altered just before the interviews, or if they really like the tribute."

"Xenya walked with me," Cade remembered, following on from Mags. Obviously Cade had managed to win the stylists favour more than me.

"Why the suit?" I asked Mags. "Am I changing my angle or something?"

"No, but you can't just be good-looking to win the Hunger Games. The suit makes you look clever and ready of business, you'll get more sponsors."

"Don't worry," Danty says from one corner of the elevator, "you still look hot."

I actually snorted at that and properly looked at Danty for the first time. She was starting to look good. The Capitol food was filling out her sharp angles, softening the rough edges a little, and the makeover made her seem younger and less troubled. She still wouldn't have been called a beauty, but she didn't look too bad. The dress helped – it was lilac, and floated out around her, masking her large figure and adding a touch of innocence. She had said that her approach was humble.

The elevator pinged and Daphne hauled me out of the small room. Although I had seen lots of my prep team, I had fortunately managed to avoid Daphne through most of my stay. When I had seen her, she had been 'busy, busy' and didn't have time to talk to me.

"I know we don't have long before you have to go on Finnick," she gushed as she dragged me towards the edge of the interview set, the others trailing a little way behind us, "but I just wanted to let you know that I'm behind you a hundred percent. I've got a lot of good sponsors lined up for your Games, and I will have lots more if you do well tonight. You wouldn't believe how successful this year has been for me! Since I got _you_, my job prospects have rocketed. There's talk of me moving up to District 1 or 2 next year, can you believe it!"

"That's great, Daphne. I'm so glad I can help you do that."

She bobbed her head and pushed me towards the milling crowd of tributes.

"Do your best tonight Finnick!" she called before disappearing back into the camera crews.

The Careers welcomed me with shouts and smiles. They were all slightly hyper from the rush of adrenaline. The excitement was contagious, and soon I was babbling on with them about training scores and the private sessions, laughing at nothing and flinging my arms around the tribute's shoulders. The nerves didn't set in until some Capitol staff arranged us into single file, and moved us onto the stage.

The interviews had been held on the same set ever since the first Hunger Games, though the decoration developed and evolved every year. The arches around the stage were festooned with pink ribbon this year, and pink streamers hung from the balconies of the prestigious houses around. The audience was filing into their seats, inspecting us and our outfits eagerly. I caught Xenya's eye from the front row and smoothed down my sleeves, conscious of how wrinkled he probably thought they were.

Ceaser Flickerman mounted the stage. His hair and makeup this year were the most unattractive neon pink. He greeted the crowd with his signature wink and salute before he took his seat in the middle of the podium. A few makeup artists ran onto stage to quickly adjust Ceaser's face, before hiding on the edges of the set again.

There wasn't any particular warning that the cameras had started rolling. One man counted silently down from three on his fingers, and then Ceaser was talking – introducing Panem to this year's tributes.

"So, without further ado," he called to the cheering and whooping audience, "let me introduce our first tribute, the most beautiful gem out there: Jewel from District 1!"

Jewel stood up, beaming at the audience. She had, surprisingly, gone for an elegant angle. Usually the District 1 girls just went for just 'sexy', but Jewel had toned that down. Her long hair was swept into a messy bun, and her red dress covered pretty much all of her skin. Ceaser kissed her hand as she sat opposite him, and then the buzzer went and her interview began.

"Congratulations on your excellent score, Jewel. A nine! You've obviously got the brains to go with the beauty."

Her face softened slightly, and her smile become less forced as Ceaser complimented her. "Thanks Ceaser, but there's no way I could live up to you." She winked and the audience laughed.

Bryd couldn't play the audience as well as his district partner could, but – paired with his ten in training – he was an imposing figure.

Cloud hadn't bothered with being unique. She was purely sexy as she sauntered over to Ceaser and kissed his cheek, leaving a red smear there. Her eyes smouldered into the cameras as she talked, and half the men appeared to be drooling by the time she was over. Ceaser seemed genuinely sad to let her leave.

Demon was even more imposing than Bryd, but in a much more antisocial way than the other boy had been. Even Ceaser Flickerman, who could change the opinions of Panem with a word, was having trouble presenting him a good light. It was only when it came to the last question that the blood-thirsty audience started liking him.

"So, Demon, are you going to win?"

"Of course. I'm going to be doing most of the killing."

The buzzer went, which gave Ceaser the moment he needed to recover from the unexpectedly violent comment, and the vicious audience screamed their approval at the mentions of killing. His interview with the tributes from 3 – Millie and Hem – were much more conventional. Millie, who had managed to get an eight from her private sessions, was sly and her interview involved a lot of knowing looks and winks. Hem was happy to a worrying extent. He was just smiling simply at everything around him while he gave Ceaser extremely cheesy and overdone answers.

Danty walked with small, skipping steps, a little smile on her face. The buzzer went off and Ceaser dived straight into the questions. Sadly, Danty wasn't managing to keep up her humble approach: it kept slipping into a terrified, introverted girl. I had to work hard to keep the grimace of my face as her interview continued. It was obvious the Capitol audience were losing interest, as they turned to their neighbours and talked with increasing volume. The buzzer went off and there was a polite applause as she tripped back to her seat. I gave her hand a small squeeze as I took my place opposite Ceaser. The crowd had shut up again at this point.

We shook hands and the buzzer went off.

"So, Finnick," Ceaser began, "you've made quite an impact on us Capitol citizens! Have we made any sort of impact on you?"

I grinned. "Of course you have! I've never met such an interesting and friendly bunch of people before. I could live here forever."

"It's nice to know we can leave an impression on someone as handsome as you." There were calls of agreement from the audience.

"Ceaser, I don't know how you can call me good-looking when you're surrounded by all these beautiful people. It's hard to keep myself focused on the Games with all these Capitol women around me." I winked in the general direction of the audience and was answered by high pitched shrieks.

"Moving onto the Games – otherwise all these girls will end up having a heart attack – you seem to be very well prepared for them. A training score of ten! You're in District 1 and 2 league, and you didn't even volunteer."

"Well, if I have to be here, I'm going to be the _best_ here. That's my motto for the Hunger Games."

"We're definitely not going to count you out; you're probably one of the strongest competitors."

I tipped my head in acknowledgement of this fact. I wasn't going to deny it – my approach wasn't humble, and I did get a very high training score.

Ceaser laughed a little at my arrogance and continued with his line of thought. "Would you have volunteered if your name hadn't been called?"

I shook my head slowly while trying to formulate a fluent answer. "I would have stayed," I began sluggishly, delaying the moment when I would have to explain. "As much as I love the Capitol, and would move here if I could, I have a little sister who I just can't leave. It broke my heart, seeing her face when my name was called. She's my favourite person in the world." The thought of Ariel, sitting at home and watching me on the TV actually made me choke up. The real show of emotion didn't seem to deter the audience – as it usually did – I could hear some of them sighing. Ceaser reached forward to pat my arm sympathetically.

"I know what you mean; I would hate to leave my family at home. Would you like to say something to your sister? It's not completely legal, but I think everyone will turn a blind eye if we just let you give her a small message."

I actually contemplated kissing Ceaser at that moment. He was a genuinely nice guy, which I had never realised before when I watched the Hunger Games with my family.

"Thanks." I swallowed and turned to look directly at the closest camera. "Ariel, I just wanted to let you know that... that I'm doing fine. I miss everything about you loads and loads, even your cooking. I'm coming back to you, alright? And I'm going to keep that promise. Look after Dad until I'm home – and make sure looks after you too. I love you both."

Ceaser had tears in his eyes as he leaned forward to give me a hug.

"Finnick," he said while wiping away tears with his sleeve, "I hope for your sister's sake that you do well in the Games. Is there anybody else you want to say hello to? A girlfriend or a lover?"

I shook my head, smiling slightly. _Thank you again, Ceaser, you've given me another opportunity to woo the Capitol girls._

"No, sadly there's no one at home like that. Maybe I'll find meet the one when I get back home. Or she could be in the audience right now." I blew a few kisses out to the audience who was going wild.

"Let's remember what I said about not giving the women a heart attack, Fin-" a harsh buzzer noise cut through his words. "And there's the buzzer! Sorry but we're going to have to let you go and get the next tribute out here. Goodbye, Finnick, let's hope you see your sister again!"

My smile became forced and I hoped it wasn't noticeable. It was the ignorance of the Capitol. I wanted to see my sister so badly, but I couldn't go home before I killed a number of children. What kind of world is that?

I passed the thirteen year old girl from District 5 who had got the lowest score as I walked back to my seat. She was so small that I could see over the top of her head if I was looking straight ahead.

The other interviews were a mixture of quick and painfully slow. Dexter, from District 8, had most of the audience in stitches at his jokes. However his parnet, Davyn, was the dullest and lifeless tribute out of them all, and the audience cheered when she left the seat, just because it was over.

The siblings from 7, Genn and Lian, were both bursting with confidence.

"What do you think of the competition?" Ceaser asked Lian, the brother.

He shrugged. "They think they're intimidating, but Genn and I can take them easily."

His sister was just as bad. They overflowed with their own self-importance to a point that it was almost unbearable, but they just toed the line, and the Capitol seemed to like them.

The last to leave the chair was the boy from 12, who seemed brave after he followed Zoe, who spent the whole interview crying and saying she just wanted to go home.

The final buzzer went off and the crowd stood up, clapping and screaming the names of their favourite tributes. It was an even mix of the Careers, but Demon and I had a slight edge. The anthem blared out, covering up the noise from the audience as we stood, silently listening to the cheers of the crowd once more, after all, we were going into the arena tomorrow and it wasn't as if we were going to hear anyone cheer our names in there.

"How did I do?" I asked Mags as soon as I stepped off the stage.

"From what I could see, you did well but we mentors don't get a good view, so I'll tell you after we've watched the televised version."

I groaned. "Do I have to sit through that again?"

She grinned and elbowed me in the ribs gently. "You love watching yourself doing well, don't deny it."

"It's a weakness, I must admit." The interviews had left me in a surprisingly optimistic mood. Mags was right – I did enjoy the buzz that I was left with, and listening to people cheering my name was like a drug.

Daphne, apparently, had been sitting the audience and while we watched the interviews back with the rest of Panem, she provided a constant commentary of what she had thought of each of the candidates. She assured me – and she remembered to mention Danty's name a few times – that District 4 was the most popular district.

"Those other tributes don't stand a chance against you!" she patted my arm. "_Everyone_ is on your side in the Capitol, and we are the ones that matter the most to you in the Games."

"You're the ones that matter most to me in my _life_, Daphne." That comment earned me a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

Apart from Daphne's commentary, no one spoke until the Capitol anthem had ended and the screen was black.

"I'm going to go to bed, then," I said, rising from my chair. Daphne leapt up to, and threw her arms around me. I froze as I realised she had gone from cheerful to convulsively sobbing.

"I... I'm going to mi-mi-miss you, Finn...ick," she stuttered through her tears.

"Um... yeah, sure," I said while awkwardly patting her on the back. "I'm going to miss you too."

Cade gently prised Daphne off me to let me and Mags have some breathing space. I watched our escort say goodbye to Danty before wobbling out of the room.

Mags nodded at me. "It's been an honour to mentor you, Finnick. I hope you live."

"Thanks," I said. "I hope I manage to do your mentoring some credit and win."

It didn't make her smile – as I'd hoped – instead, she frowned and shook her head at me.

"No, Finnick, don't win for me. Win for Ariel, and for your father. They need to see you again." When she hugged me, I had to blink away tears. I sniffed and tried to hold back my tears as she stoked my hair, like my mother used to do.

"I'm coming back for you too, Mags. Ariel and Dad too."

She released me and stepped back. "I've got some last minute tips, are you listening?"

"Yeah," I wiped my nose on my sleeve, "I am."

"Get what you can from the Cornucopia. You'll be with the other Careers, so altogether you'll get the best of the spoils. But try to get some things for yourself that they don't know of. Hide daggers in your trousers; shove a bottle of water down your top, do anything to get an element of surprise. And always be prepared to run. You're with the Careers, but don't stay with them for too long or they'll turn on you and possibly kill you. Stay with them for a few days and get the best stuff before running off and live your own."

"Can I make other alliances?"

"It's your choice," Mags shrugged. "If you need to then do, but don't rely on making them." She paused, obviously trying to figure out how to word something. "And... Be prepared to kill someone. Don't be squeamish or think about their families or anything like that – just kill them and move on."

"Okay," I said, letting an awkward pause fall between us.

"Goodbye Finnick, I hope you win."

I looked around the Capitol room, feeling a little lost. "I hope so too."

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_If you liked, please leave a quick review. :)_

_xxx_


	7. The Arena

_Woohoo! Let the proper Hunger Games... Begin!_

_Very long chapter – took me ages to finally finish. Not that happy with it, but I suck at writing bloodbath scenes. Sorry. It will improve as I get into the swing of the arena._

_The Hunger Games and its characters belong to Suzanne Collins._

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**Chapter Seven: The Arena**

To his everlasting credit, Xenya gave me a full break down of what to expect in the arena from the clothes I had been given. I had been slightly afraid that he would just give me my clothes and then bugger off back to the Capitol and his drinks. But he stayed with me in the room while I dressed and explained the clothes.

"It's very baggy, which will allow for more sweating, and white, which reflects the heat, so expect the arena to be very hot. But there's so much material that it could be used for a blanket, which means there might be some cold places. Be careful about getting it wet, the material will just absorb all the water and it will be wet for a very long time." He passed me some sturdy boots and a pair of very thin socks, and then proceeded to wrap a longer piece of cloth around my head, shading my eyes. "It's going to be a hot year. It may or may not be humid, but keep out of the sun as much as you can. You don't want bad sunburn in the arena, it will seriously hinder you, that's why you have a hood – to protect your face from the sun. As for the rest, you're going to have to figure it out yourself."

"Thanks," I told him as I stepped onto the metal disc.

He nodded and strode out the room as the disc moved upwards, towards the hole in the ceiling and the arena.

I felt like swearing as it was revealed to me.

The sun beat down on my back like a physical blow with no clouds to shield me from the burning. The pale yellow sand reflected the sun's rays back to us, making me uncomfortably hot in the outfit that was supposedly designed to keep my cool. A desert. That's what the arena was. A massive desert stretching as far as the eye could see ahead of me. There was a black, dead wood on one side that offered a bit of shade and, hopefully, water and food. The Cornucopia lay ahead, spilling its gifts all over the sand, with the twenty four tributes evenly spread around it. Inside the horn, I could see a sword and a few belts of throwing knives, but no trident. Maybe it was buried under the mountain of stuff; _hopefully_ it was buried under the mountain of stuff.

I cast my eyes around to find my allies. Cloud and Bryd were next to each other on the opposite side of the Cornucopia. Jewel was on my right, and Alys stood next to her. There were three tributes to the left of me and then it was Demon. It was an even spread of Careers.

Usually, a minute was quick. But when you were waiting a minute before diving straight into a bloodbath, it passed considerably slower. Glancing around, I looked for something that would be useful. There were a few bottles of sunscreen lying around, and I could see two canteens of water. But they were closer to other tributes who would want them too. The closest weapon was a small sheath of about five knives. Those would be useful in the beginnings of the Cornucopia fights, but I would need a better weapon when the fray reached the more valuable items.

The gong sounded and I sprinted forward, picking up the knives and belting them around my waist. The tribute that was standing on my left was also headed towards the knives and I only just managed to avoid his fist. Before I was conscious of my actions, one of the knives was out of the sheath and in his stomach. I kept running towards my goal – the Cornucopia – without stopping to check if he was dead. I guess I would know when the cannons went off this evening.

"Hey Finnick!" Jewel called, jogging up to me. She was covered in blood.

"What have _you_ been doing?" I asked while picking up a brown backpack and shoving some bottles of sunscreen into it.

"Getting this. Another girl thought it should be hers." She uncovered a crossbow that had been wrapped up in her clothes.

I swung the straps of the backpack onto my shoulders while taking another two knives from the sheath just as the boy from 5 – I didn't know his name – ran towards us with the sword I had noticed earlier in his hands. Before I could even raise my hand to through the knife, Jewel had levelled the crossbow and sent bolts straight into his leg. He cried out in pain, tipping over his own feet to get away. Jewel swore as he disappeared round the other side of the Cornucopia.

Desperate to get a proper weapon, I threw myself into the fighting at the base of the Cornucopia. As I dug through the pile of tents and food to find a weapon, I became aware of something behind me. I turned and slashed out with a knife, but the person behind me skipper a few steps back. It was Zoe, the twelve year old, braving the fray to get something good. I hesitated as I stared as her tiny body, not wanting to hurt someone that young. The hesitation wasn't a good idea, I realised, when Zoe leapt at me, her lips pulling back into a feral snarl. She had an arrow – probably because she hadn't managed to find anything better – clutched in one small hand which she tried to stab me with.

_Age be damned_, I thought as the arrow scraped across my arm, leaving a long, bleeding gash. I leapt towards her, unthinking. My knife was slitting her throat before I even registered that my hand was moving.

I pushed the dead twelve year old away and went back to digging through the pile.

Lots of bows and arrows. Not useful. No spears or tridents. I found another three sheaths of bigger and deadlier throwing knives which I hid in my bag and an axe that I had to hold because it was too large to fit in. There was also a water bag that could be attached to a backpack, saving room for other things. A spare set of protective clothing and a fire starting kit also went in before another tribute tried to kill me.

It was the boy from 8. I didn't know his name, either. I was unused to wielding an axe, so my movements were clumsy. When I first swung I completely missed my target (his stomach) and hit his neck. It got stuck a few centimetres into his skin, not deep enough to kill him or make him pass out; he just screamed in agony and grasped at the axe. As I pulled it out, I realised it had gone deeper than I first though – I could see a bit of white bone – and I couldn't understand how he was still alive. But his screams informed me he definitely was.

My next swing hit the target: his gut. But there still wasn't enough power in it and, though his intestines were spilling on onto the floor, he wasn't dead. I couldn't bear trying to lift the stupid thing again, so I dropped the axe and turned my back on the tribute and the weapon. It didn't block out his screaming, but at least I didn't have to see the gore.

Another tribute standing close by started screaming. It was the girl from 8, screaming for her partner who I had just half-killed.

"Dexter! Dexter! Wake up, wake up!" She ran passed, completely ignoring me. "You said you were going to protect me. Dexter, you said you we were going to help each other. Dex-" Her pleas were cut off when Bryd threw the axe I had just dropped into her neck, severing it in half. The boy, Dexter, had stopped moving.

"Nice axe, Finnick," Bryd said and attempted to hand it back. I held up my hands.

"If you want it then keep it. I couldn't work that stupid thing."

"Thanks dude," Bryd said, swinging the awe over his shoulder. "If I see a trident, I'll give it to you."

That was my main worry. While the other tributes were hacking each other to pieces with their favourite weapons – I saw Alys fighting the boy from 5 to get her sword and Jewel practising her knife throwing using the girl from 6 as a target – I couldn't find my trident anywhere. Although I didn't want to, I had to accept that the gamemakers hadn't included a trident. My rage was overpowering for a minute as I grabbed another two backpacks and started shoving more water and food into them.

_What_ was the _point_ in spending so much time and effort wooing the Capitol audience if they didn't even give me what I needed?

I pushed the anger aside; it wouldn't help me that much anymore. It would have been useful when I was trying to kill that tribute.

Around me, the violence was ending as the tributes either died or ran away from the Careers. The cannons would be going off soon for the dead. I became aware of how hot I was. The sun that I had noticed earlier was pounding down on my back and I was sweating profusely. The point of the sunscreen became clear to me when Alys arrived at my elbow, sword in hand, with a slightly-pink face. Obviously our clothes didn't protect us from sunburn. With that in mind I started pouring bottles of the stuff onto my skin – I sometimes got sunburn while fishing out on the boat, and it was not fun.

"You got your sword back, I see," I said to Alys.

"Yeah." She grinned at the blade. "Pity that idiot got it first, though. I got this," she pointed to a scratched on her cheek, "because I didn't have a proper weapon."

"Just be glad that there's a sword in the arena," I said dully, bandaging the scrape on my arm from the arrow. "No trident for me. Not even a spear. I've got no idea what I'm going to do."

Alys patted my shoulder sympathetically. "At least you've got the knives to fall back on. I saw you... _using_ them earlier like an expert."

Out of the Career pack, I liked Alys the best. She, like me, hadn't volunteered for the Games. She wanted to win so that she could see her family, not for the glory. And unlike the Careers, Alys avoided the thought of killing. She did it because that's what happened in the Games. Like me.

"Still," she continued, breaking up my thoughts. "It does suck. I mean, Jewel's got her crossbow, Bryd's got that axe, I've got my sword. They should have given you a spear at least. It's not like you can make one."

"I could make a net though," I said, thinking about how to improve my weapon-less status.

"A net?"

"Good for, y'know, trapping fish... or people..." I made a throwing gesture and then sighed, straightening out the cloth that protected my face. "Oh well, I'll have to do the best I can with my knives."

Alys nodded and we wandered over to the group of Careers, who were comparing their spoils.

"What have you got?" Cloud demanded as soon as we were near.

"A sword," Alys said, holding up her sword.

"Some daggers, a heck of a lot of water bottles, sunscreen and a backpack."

"No food?" We both shook our heads. "Okay, there was no food in the Cornucopia, so which ones of you can hunt?"

"I can fish," I volunteered. "But we're in a desert, so I doubt there are many places to fish."

"And I hate animals."

Cloud and Bryd looked pointedly at Jewel.

"Fine!" Jewel said in exasperation. "I'll hunt. But _all_ of you are helping; I refuse to do it by myself. Finnick, you can come with me on my first shift. Which is now."

"Can I come?" Alys asked.

Jewel gave her an icy glare that answered her question before dragging me off into the woods.

"Stay there," she called over her shoulder at our allies. "We'll be back within an hour. If not, listen out for the cannon." She winked: I just felt mildly ill.

We walked in silence for a while. "You know how to hunt?"

She shrugged. "So does Bryd. And probably Demon and Cloud too. The ones who want to be tributes learn it in training."

"Training?"

"Every day," she nodded. "Four in the afternoon until nine in the evening on school days, and then all day on the weekends or in holidays. We're allowed our birthdays and some national holidays off."

"That's... intense. When do you do your homework?"

Jewel's derisive snort at the word 'homework' told me a lot. "It's not too bad. It's what District 1 is like. Besides, only the best train that hard. And only the best of the best are allowed to volunteer. I thought District 4 was like ours – do you not train?"

"Not like you do. Some people do, but they do it privately with personal trainers that they've hired."

"You didn't do that?"

"I fished. And ate whatever food my sister served me." I fell silent, talking about Ariel made me depressed. But the silence didn't comfort me – the woods were creepy. The trees were all dead and the branches were completely still from the lack of wind.

"Is that all that happened in District 4? I mean, did Danty and others just do that too?"

"Yeah, I guess. If you don't fish, you starve. It's kind of a no brainer. There were some richer families who bought their own food and just sat around all day, but mostly even the richest ones fished, otherwise you would die of boredom."

Jewel hushed me as she walked forward quietly, a bolt ready in her crossbow. I stood still, knowing that if I moved I would probably make a sound and scare away all the game. A small lizard was sunning on a tree branch, completely unbothered by the proximity of humans. It opened an eye, seeming to sense my looking, and crawled a little further along the branch before relaxing once more.

The _twang_ of the crossbow brought my attention back to Jewel. She was standing several metres to the left, picking up a dead, furred thing.

"They have squirrels here!" she announced cheerfully.

"Yay. That made my day. Hey, I was almost stabbed in the Cornucopia half an hour ago and there are no weapons I can use, but who cares? There's a squirrel!"

"You'll be grateful about that when you try to choke down raw lizard. It tastes disgusting."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"It's a District 1 delicacy," she said, shuddering. "And it tastes like eating the half-digested contents of a cows stomach."

"I'm worshipping the squirrel, then." I sketched a small bow at the animal hanging from Jewel's hand.

Jewel rolled her eyes and ordered me to be silent again as she hunted. The lizard on the branch was still there, waving its tail slowly.

"What are you staring at?" Jewel asked when she returned, squirrels clutched in both of her hands. She followed my gaze and glared at the little black lizard. Before I could stop her, she had pulled one of my knives of the sheath and stabbed the lizard.

"I quite liked that lizard," I said mildly.

"I have a thing against the whole species. It makes me happier knowing that that one isn't near me anymore." She handed the knife back and picked up the squirrels she had dropped in her haste to kill the reptile. We started walking back to the other tributes, the squirrels in hand.

When we got back to the Cornucopia, the hovercraft had been and gone, leaving only the bloodstains from the bodies. The other tributes were arguing under an awning that they had covered the golden horn with, to provide shelter from the ever-present sun. I sat down on the hot sand next to Alys, who wasn't contributing to the discussion.

"What are we all arguing about?" I drawled from the floor. "It's only the first day, you realise, and usually alliances don't break up this quickly."

I was ignored by the Careers. Alys, unnoticed, rolled her eyes at them and explained to me.

"Bryd wants to move to the forest, Cloud doesn't. They've been arguing like this pretty much ever since you left. I think Cloud's about four seconds away from stabbing him."

"We had to _move_ to let the hovercraft come and get the bodies! There's _nothing here_! It's a terrible place to have our camp!" Cloud was yelling at Bryd, throwing her hands in the air to add to her exasperation.

Bryd, too, was on the edge of his temper it appeared. "What makes you think there's going to be anything in the forest except mutts and other tributes?"

"We can fight them off easily!"

"I don't want to waste our energy on protecting ourselves," Bryd growled. "If we stay put then we'll only be the predators, it's so clear out here that no one would dare attack us. We can go into the woods to hunt and a person can guard our stuff with the crossbow."

"We want to give the viewers some entertainment, not just sit around here all day."

"We're not going to do that! We're going to go and hunt tributes all day and sit around here for a few minutes to eat. Does that satisfy your desires, princess?"

Cloud grinned, or snarled. It was hard to tell, both were extremely menacing expressions were on her face. "We better get going soon; I want to take my anger out on something."

The other Careers volunteered immediately, too. I declined, seeing as I had no useful weapon when it came to any sort of proper fight. Instead I sat in the shade of the sheet, rubbing even more sunscreen in. Bryd ordered Alys to stay and prepare the squirrels, ignoring the scathing look she gave him as he jogged to join Jewel, Demon and Cloud waiting under the cover of the trees. He had my axe in his belt.

"I don't even know how to cook," Alys said in disgust when the others and vanished into the forest.

"Get rid of the fur and then take out all of the parts you don't want to eat," I told her.

As I had little else to do while Alys prepared the food I lay down on the floor and covered my eyes with an arm. A late-afternoon nap seemed like a perfect plan until I was rudely jerked awake by the cannons. I opened my eyes and stared up at the sky, waiting for the faces.

The first cannon and the first face.

"Danty," I breathed as my District partner appeared on the temporary list of the dead. I hadn't even spared her a thought since coming to the arena. My problems had been more important.

"Didn't you know?" Alys had joined me with staring at the sky.

I shook my head as the next face appeared. The boy from 5 who Alys had killed for her sword.

Alys remained silent through his picture, only speaking again when the next one came. "Oh, it's that little girl. What was she doing in the Cornucopia mess?"

The thirteen year old girl from 5 was followed by the thirteen year old girl from 6. I hadn't realised that they both had similar tributes. I couldn't even remember their names. The next two were the ones I had tried to kill with the axe, from District 8. The girl had called the boy Dexter. Her name was Davyn. I'd noticed her in training. She had been quite good. However nobody could be classed as 'good' with an axe sticking through their neck.

They weren't the only two District partners to die. The last two were the pair from twelve. I didn't know the boy's name, or who had killed him – but I could clearly remember the girl, and how I had slit her throat.

"Wasn't that the twelve year old?"

"Zoe," I croaked, and then cleared my throat. "Her name was Zoe. I killed her."

Alys was only silent for a moment and then said the perfect thing. "I killed Maddox and Laria."

"Laria?"

"The girl from 6."

"Oh."

"But I'm alive now, so I think it's justifiable."

Zoe's face faded from the sky at last. Eight people had died. Only _eight_. It was almost unheard of to have that little people dying. The average for the Cornucopia bloodbath was thirteen or fourteen.

"Do you know what happened to Danty?" I asked, sitting up and brushing the sand out of my hair. Alys went back to skinning the squirrels.

"Not particularly, I wasn't paying that much attention. But I saw Jewel running towards her, and then I saw her when the hovercraft picked up the bodies."

"Jewel?"

"Yeah."

I had no idea why it bugged me so much. Jewel was a Career as much as the others, but I had started to think of her as a friend. Stupid to make friends in the Hunger Games, though. They ended up, or they killed your other friends. Either way, you lost out.

"Did you like her?" Alys tentatively asked.

I shrugged. "Not particularly. But I didn't want her dead, you know? Especially not killed by one of my allies on the first day. Did your partner survive today?" I couldn't remember seeing the boy from 9, but already the dead were blurring together in my mind. To keep my hands busy, I stowed my backpack behind a few water bottles and grabbed the fire making kit from one of the piles of stuff before settling down to try and start our cooking fire.

Alys snorted. "Yeah. Carlo didn't even get his hands dirty, he just ran. Which I guess is good for him, but unless he can find water he's going to be dead pretty soon."

"There's definitely water out there. They didn't give us enough at the Cornucopia for everyone."

A cannon fired, followed by another one and both of our heads jerked up in surprise at the noise, but we recovered quickly and kept at our chores.

"Guess they found a group," I remarked. "They didn't take as long as I thought."

"They'll probably try to make another kill before they come back."

I glanced at the horizon where the sun was currently setting. "I don't think so. It's getting late and they'll probably want food."

We were both sort of right. They arrived shortly after a third cannon fired. Alys and I were both sitting as far away from the heat of the fire as we could, while we cooked the squirrel meat.

The four of them were laughing and appeared drunk on their success. Jewel dropped onto the ground next to me and used me as a backrest while she got her breath back. The other three crowded round the fire first, grabbing bits of cooked squirrel. I grabbed a handful before they were all gone, using my lap as a plate.

"Were all of those cannons because of you four?" I asked Jewel.

"Two of them were. We found two tributes that were fighting already, the boys from 9 and 10. We finished them off. We've got no idea who the third cannon was for. Can I have a piece of food?"

She opened her mouth expectantly and I dropped the squirrel in.

"Mmm... That's good, Finnick. You should be a chef."

I laughed at the image of me working in a restaurant after the Hunger Games. "Say that again when you've got food poisoning from it being undercooked."

"I'm sure it's fine. Can I have another piece?" I placed some more food in her mouth and ate the last few pieces myself.

"Eleven dead today," I said quietly.

"Twelve more to go." Jewel clapped her hands to together in anticipation. "These are going to be good Games, I can tell."

* * *

_Poor Finnick... A desert with no trident. He has dreadful luck._

_Leave the boy some love in a review?_

_~Charlotte-LOVE-_


	8. Alone

_Sorry about the long update wait, I promise it won't take this long again. I've decided that I will update once a week, probably on a weekend. I'm starting to write chapters in advance so I can actually follow up on this promise. I'm a rubbish updater, so I hope this'll make it better._

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or its characters, Suzanne Collins does._

_Enjoy :)_

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**Chapter Eight: Alone**

I retrieved my hidden pack from the pile of water bottles silently. It was still filled with all of the useful stuff I had picked up during the bloodbath. The others were sleeping soundly, counting on me to be a dutiful watcher. Despite the night's events, they weren't expecting me to run off.

When I thought about it, it was a stupid reason to leave. But I didn't want to stay and watch it escalate into something much bigger and more serious. So Jewel had tried to kiss me. I was half-asleep and didn't realise what she was doing until she was sitting on my lap with her mouth on mine.

But the look Bryd had given me afterwards was enough to confirm his unrequited feelings for Jewel, and I was used to the look of jealousy in his eyes – I had seen it before when I got 'too friendly' with girls. It was definitely easier if I left early and let them hack each other to pieces. Maybe I would find more allies with the less bloodthirsty tributes.

I carefully stepped over the sleeping bodies, my pack strapped onto my shoulders. My hand lingered on the belt of throwing knives around my waist as I stared at the sleeping bodies. It would be so easy to get rid of a few of them now while they slept...

No. Ariel would never forgive me. _I_ would never forgive myself.

I paused by Alys, before kneeling down and gently shaking her awake, my hand over her mouth. Her eyes flew open and I could feel her muscles tense in panic.

"Alys, it's Finnick – don't scream," I whispered as quietly as I could.

She sat up on her elbows and I slowly removed my hand from her mouth, dropping it to her shoulder. "What are you doing? Is it my shift?" she asked, equally as quietly.

"I'm leaving," I answered. "I don't want to stick around for more trouble. Do you want to come with me?"

She reached up and covered my hand with hers. "No, I'll have more of a chance here." She squeezed my hand gently. "Good luck, though."

I smiled. "You too. If I don't win, then I hope you do. You deserve it more than those Careers."

Alys just smiled sadly at me. We both knew that our chances of winning, compared to that of the Careers, were sadly small.

"Bye," I whispered and jogged away from the Careers, not slowing down until I was deep inside the wood. Away from the light and warmth of the fire, the arena was freezing and dark. I walked slowly, one hand blindly stretched in front of me in case I walked into a tree, the other clutching the clothes closer to my body to try and save some body heat. It may or may not have worked, I didn't die of hypothermia, but I was nowhere near warm. I longed to crawl into the shadow of a tree and try and preserve heat, but the fear that the Careers were awake and hunting kept me running blindly through the wood for a long time.

Thankfully, though I was freezing, I wasn't tired and I managed to walk through the night without stopping. Though I had no idea where I was, I knew I was very far away from the Careers and their resentment at one of their number leaving.

Through the night I had gathered a few things about the arena; it was very large; the floor was always sand; it didn't have many rivers or streams or sources of water and it was _overflowing_ with life. Though I had been silent while I was walking, the rest of the forest hadn't. Insects had been chirping all night, and sometimes there was the sound of movement from something bigger.

I hadn't run into another tribute, either, which probably meant that everyone was very spread out in the forest. That fact led to a high probability of some kind of Gamemaker intervention. After all, it was no fun if the tributes weren't dying.

With the sun rising and my eyes aching, I decided it was an excellent time to get some rest, but the forest seemed remarkably exposed with the light. My walk slowed even more as I trawled through the forest, trying desperately to find a secluded patch of bushes or something. As the sun rose, the bone-deep cold was replaced by an uncomfortable warmth that radiated into my body from every direction. The arena's temperature was like a well designed torture. If I survived, I would have to applaud the Gamemakers on an excellently thought out arena, after I punched them in the face, of course.

Another hour past with no luck. Halfway through the second hour, I almost fell into a pond. By that point, I was dragging my feet through the sand, my eyes half-closed. The shock of seeing water jerked me awake, and I blinked rapidly to determine that what I was seeing was not an oasis – several of the children's stories in District 4 were centred on people lost in deserts with no water. But no, it was really there. I inspected it more closely.

It appeared only to be about half a metre deep, and two metres in diameter. 'Pond' was a generous title; it was more like a puddle. However it was ringed with a dense shrubbery that would provide an excellent cover while I slept. I crashed into the middle of one bush and fell down heavily. I would drink and wash some of the sweat off when I woke up.

Unsurprisingly, I was too alert to get a good sleep. My eyes would fly open at any sound that might be another tribute, and I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep until my heart had stopped hammering in my chest. The suffocating heat worsened throughout the day to the point where I was waking up to a burning sensation all over my skin, no matter how much sunscreen I slathered on myself. Only the thought of the sunburn I would get if I took my clothes off stopped me from stripping to get cool.

When I awoke for the final time, it was mid-afternoon. Through the holes in the bush, I could see small reptiles scampering around the pond. They were all fairly safe looking, and none were bigger than two inches long. I stood up and stretched, brushing the sticks out of my hair with a free hand. I was covered in a layer of grime and my mouth tasted like a day-old fish.

I rinsed it out with half the water from my bottle. I was less bothered about saving water with a pond next to me, but I was still conscious about the volume of water. The water in the bottle was going stale already, but it did the job in washing the taste out of my mouth. I threw the empty water bottle back in the direction of my backpack, and rolled to my feet with a groan. My muscles were aching from the long walk last night and shaking from the lack of food. I stumbled over to the puddle and collapsed onto my hands and knees in front of it. With my face an inch away from the water, I noticed something that I had missed earlier.

"Fish!" I couldn't help but exclaim as I saw the flash of silver. The puddle didn't look big enough to be home to a fish, and I couldn't see where they got food from, but I didn't particularly care at that moment. The fish in the water was as close to home as I was going to get in the Hunger Games.

With a newfound energy I leapt to my feet to find a weapon, remembering a few seconds late that I only had daggers, which weren't the right tools to use for fishing. I swore and sat back down, staring at the water. If you were looking for it, the flashes of silver were obvious. My hands itched to catch one of them.

_If only I had a spear, or even a net._ I could _make_ a net, but the material available – small twigs or dead tree boughs – didn't have the ideal net-making qualities. Or any net-making qualities whatsoever.

"I guess I'm stuck with my hands, then."

Every person in District 4 – with possibly one or two exceptions – knew how to fish with a net and a fishing rod. It was an instinct that you seemed to know from birth until you were on your deathbed. Even the mayor went fishing on his massive yacht with hundreds of servants surrounding him.

Pretty much everyone in District 4 could fish using a spear. They were harder to use, and generally the kills were messy and smaller, but they were easy to get hold of and fishing with them took much less time.

The richer and more skilled people could fish with a trident. It was the same technique as fishing with a spear, but tridents were expensive and hard to get hold of. The people who owned tridents were usually the very skilled fishers, and their catches were the most desirable.

Nobody caught their fish by hand. Not because they didn't know how – the knowledge was common among District 4 – but because fishing with your hands was hard, imprecise and it took half an hour to get one small, diseased fish. It was just not a practical method.

That was why, with a lot of heavy sighing, I rolled up my sleeves and crouched by the very edge of the puddle. I stayed like that, motionless, staring at the water, waiting for the telltale movements that would let me know that I would catch one.

_There_.

My hands shot forward into the water, towards the fish I knew were there.

"No!" someone shrieked from behind me.

It took all of my agility not to plummet into the water, while my fingers desperately closed on an empty space. I twisted to face the tribute that was behind me, but a sharp pain in my hands made me freeze and I winced.

"Get your hands out of the water." The command came from a much deeper voice than the first.

The pain turned into agony and I tried to get out of the water, but my brain was acting sluggishly from the mix of pain and shock. A different pair of hands than mine pulled me away from the edge, and out of the water, but the pain stayed.

I stared in horror at my hands. Attached to them were several hundred small, wriggling creatures that were eating my flesh. Saltwater from the pond seeped into the cuts from the animals' mouths, and started to sting and then burn.

My vision started to blur and spin, while the burning spread out from my hands to the rest of my body. The torture intensified as the leeches starting moving up my arms. I was vaguely aware of the unfamiliar tributes above me, and one small part of my brain kept telling me that I should be afraid, but as I blacked out that little voice vanished.

* * *

_Finnick may be gorgeous, but he does fail quite often, he really needs to learn the arena isn't his friend. *sigh*_

_So who do you think mystery tributes are? Your guesses will help the unconscious Finnick enjoy his rest! (Basically, that was my plea to leave a very shot review for Finn and me.)_

_Next update: __**8**__**th**__**/9**__**th**__** January.**_

_Feel free to tell me off if it's not posted by then._


	9. Alliances

_Get me, being all organised :D You have to be impressed. I'm never usually this good._

_So, as promised, here is chapter nine. :)_

_The Hunger Games and Finnick belong to Suzanne Collins. The other tributes belong to me._

_Enjoy – and please review._

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**Chapter Nine: Alliances**

"Oh, hey - I'm alive." The arena was boiling and my hands were throbbing, but I wasn't dead. "What a nice surprise."

I opened my eyes and winced at the sudden light. The arena didn't appear to have changed since I passed out – no grass had suddenly sprouted, no rivers had started flowing through the forest, the sun was still beating down. I wrapped the material of my costume tighter around my head, hoping to block out more of the heat. No luck. My arms were aching, but the pain was manageable.

I slowly raised myself into a sitting position, becoming more aware of my surroundings. I was still in the forest, but a different part to where I had been. Here, the trees were much more densely packed and they were much bigger. The clearing I was in was large and was able to accommodate a group of people – which, I realised, it was.

On the other side of the clearing to me there was a crackling fire surrounded by the low hum of voices. Though the heat was still overwhelming, two tributes were sitting close to the flames, talking quietly to each other. At first, smoke blocked their features but as it cleared their identities registered. Genn and Lian, the overconfident siblings from District 7. As cocky as they had sounded in their interviews, they were obviously wary of me and both of them clutched their spears tighter as I sat up.

"Hi." I propped myself up against a tree, while considering the problem this posed. Somewhere, somehow, they had found spears. I had nothing. My backpack, with my knives, was next to the fire. _Damn it_. Perhaps casual conversation would postpone my imminent death.

"Have you noticed how both of you are alive? Isn't it a great way to start the day? You're alive and the sun is shining! What more could you want from life?" There was a stony silence from the other side of the clearing.

I yawned and stretched, presenting an uncaring, self-absorbed attitude. It wouldn't do me any good to start crying and begging for my life, after all. "Are you going to kill me? Because if you are, please just get on with it, I have other places to be, you know? Heaven, for example."

"We aren't going to kill you," Lian said.

I paused as I processed what he had just said. "This _is_ the Hunger Games, you realise. It's understandable if you want to kill me. Survival of the fittest and all that."

"You didn't kill your allies when you left them. It's not a decent thing to do – killing someone in their sleep."

"You were watching me? That's…" Freaky. "Strangely flattering."

"Keep your enemies close," Genn chimed in. She had a pretty voice, I realised.

"Why did you keep me alive? I know I have an exceptionally brilliant personality, but I wasn't expecting to make such a good impression on tributes." And then it dawned on me. "Unless you want an alliance?"

"Yes," the girl said quickly. "That is, if you want to join us," she hastily amended.

Their cockiness had annoyed me during the interviews, but both of them had lost that. Maybe they had realised the true essence of the games, or recognised the fact that they couldn't win. The second was much more likely – I had seen them in training, and though they weren't terrible, neither could be described as good; they probably were recruiting me as a bodyguard. But whatever it was, their newfound insecurities – and the fact they hadn't murdered me in my sleep – made them much more likeable.

"Well, you haven't killed me, even though you had a perfectly good chance to – I guess you're trustworthy enough."

Genn's worried expression relaxed and she moved closer to me, Lian was next to her in a flash, his stance was possessive. Genn glared at him and elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

"Lian, stop it. Finnick's an ally now – he's not going to kill me. Besides, he can't even stand up." Lian backed away, but he was still obviously alert. It was a waste of his energy. As Genn said, I was too physically weak to get up, let alone attack anyone.

"So how long have I been out?" I asked as Genn sat cross legged a few metres away from me, pulling her hood back up over her face.

She counted on her fingers. "Three nights and two days, pretty much three days. It's day five at the moment, and about the midday."

Three _days_. The fact they had kept my alive for three days showed that they were in desperate need of help. And it explained why I was ready to eat dirt. I looked at my damaged arms for the first time. They were both wrapped in a thin layer of white cloth – bandages. I peeked under a bit of the material; my arms were red and raw in patches, with soft new skin making them tender and fragile.

"How did you manage that?" I asked, "Keeping me alive, I mean."

Genn pointed upwards. "We got medicine after we found you. It took us a while to work out how to use it, but we assumed keeping you around – with all your gifts – would be a good thing."

Obviously I had caught the Capitol's attention – medicine was extremely expensive this far into the Games, and sending it to some random tributes who might possibly cure me was a risky strategy. Obviously some people had wanted to keep me alive. I bit back a smug smile.

"Who's dead?" Several tributes should have died by now – after all, the Careers had another seventy two hours of tribute hunting under their belts.

Lian counted them off on his fingers. "Bryd and Cloud, from 1 and 2, the boy from 6, Will, I think his name was... And someone else, but I can't remember who."

"The girl from 9. She died the evening after you fainted."

Bryd _and_ Cloud? I couldn't keep the shock off my face. It would have been acceptable if one Career died, but two was unimaginable. Maybe they had gotten into a fight. I didn't know Will at all – I could vaguely remember that he was older than me, either fifteen or sixteen, but nothing more. I knew a lot about the girl from 9.

"Alys," I sighed. I really had liked Alys, she was the closest I had to a friend in the arena. We both understood each other. "I guess you don't know how?"

Genn shook her head. "Sorry, we stopped stalking the Careers once you passed out."

I grimaced, but nodded my acceptance. I had expected that they wouldn't know, but it didn't stop the bubble of hope from expanding in my chest. If they had known who killed her, maybe I could avenge her. But the Games were about survival – not revenge. Shaking my head to clear the unwanted thoughts, I turned to the next problem at hand.

"D'you have any food you're willing to donate to a worthy cause? My last meal tried to eat me, you see..." I trailed off as Genn rolled her eyes and scooted back over to the fire and grabbed something from a backpack. When she returned, I saw it was a bag of dried fruits and a bottle of water. The dried fruits were probably a gift from their district. I ripped open the packet and stuffed a handful into my mouth.

"Much appreciated," I garbled through my mouthful. I flipped the cap off the bottle and drank greedily. Obviously the medicine hadn't given me any sustenance while it cured me. My new allies stared at me while I ate; Lian fingered his spears subconsciously, reminding me of my other big difficulty.

I swallowed the mush in my mouth and nodded at the spear. "Where did you get that? It wasn't at the Cornucopia, was it?"

"We made them," Lian answered. "There were some really good stones around one of the piranha ponds that made good tips, and the wood is just from the trees."

"Is it possible to make me one? I've only got stupid throwing knives… Wait, did you say _piranha_ ponds?"

"The ponds are full of piranhas and leeches. It's a nightmare to get drinking water out of them."

So that was the Gamemakers' strategy to make the arena even more torturous; they gave our water teeth.

"And yes, to your first question," Genn continued. "We made loads of spares. Just take the one that you like the most. Did they not give you the weapon you wanted?"

I snorted. "Nope, there were no tridents or nets in the Cornucopia. Feel free to use my knives," I added. I didn't particularly want to be in debt to either of them if I would have to kill them later on. "They might be useful for hunting or something."

I took another swig of water and looked at my new allies. They were both covered in dirt – probably because they couldn't use any of the pools to wash. And their clothes hung off them in a way that suggested they weren't eating particularly well. But apart from those small things, they looked healthy enough for two tributes – there were no obvious bruises or scratches from fights with other tributes and neither of them had been eaten by piranhas. Overall, they were probably the best allies to get, apart from the Careers.

"So what do we do now?" I asked.

Genn and Lian looked at each other before Genn said, "We want to move on. We've been waiting here for you to wake up for three days and it's only a matter of time before other tributes find us." She hesitated. "Are you up for walking?"

My legs didn't feel as though they were, but I nodded. "If you pass me a spear I can use it as a walking stick. I'll be fine."

Genn grinned and lightly threw a spear at me. I caught it in one hand, enjoying the familiar feel of the weapon, and shakily got to my feet, leaning on the stick heavily. My legs wobbled underneath me, but didn't collapse as I stumbled forward a few steps. Genn hovered next to me, her hands ready to catch me if I fell. Once I got the feeling back into my legs I wandered over the fire and picked up my backpack.

"I'm good to get some exercise," I said. "Where are we going?"

"Lian's already found us another good place," Genn said and turned to put out the fire, masking all traces of our presence in the clearing before she grabbed my hand and pulled me towards Lian, who was waiting on the fringes of the wood. "I'll show you."

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_Ah, Finn, you didn't fail in this chapter! Congratulations. :D_

_To my readers – next chapter will be posted __**15 /16 January.**_

_And, once again, please leave a review. I will love you forever if you do :)_


	10. The Net

_I've decided I can't be bothered to ask for reviews any more – sounds too much like begging and I'm pretty sure it's just annoying for you too._

_Anyhoo, here's normal disclaimer that the Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins._

_Enjoy :)_

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**Chapter Ten: The Net**

Lian's 'good place' turned out to be an extremely thick part of the forest, where the dead trees were packed together so densely you could barely see three metres in front of you. It was so quiet that the snapping of a twig a hundred metres away could be heard. It was the perfect place to hide. Of course, we wouldn't be able to stay here long; the Capitol audience would want blood soon. I mentioned that to Lian, who shrugged, uncaring.

"If it happens, then at least we'll be well rested," he said. "And if they force us to fight now, then you'll die in a heartbeat. We can recuperate here and then go and give the audience what they want."

"Careers aren't the only ones who can tribute hunt you know," Genn added with a grim smile.

There was the cocky streak that they had shown in the interviews. Obviously they still considered themselves to be the best in the arena.

The two siblings began setting out their camp – getting out blankets and emptying their backpacks of food. I simply flung mine onto the ground along with my spear and sank down next to a tree, watching their well practiced routine for a while. They could almost be mistaken as twins, if it wasn't for the fact that Lian was seventeen and Genn was fourteen. Both had identical black hair and tanned skin with deep blue eyes. They were sturdily built, which was uncommon for District 7, where the tributes were usually small, starved things. Even their movements were alike – neither could be described as graceful, but watching them set up camp was like was watching a well choreographed dance – both knew exactly where to be and what to do.

My eyes shut of their own accord and I felt myself slowly drifting off to sleep. Although I had managed the walk without slowing my new allies up, it had completely drained me. The regular food and water breaks hadn't helped that much either; I was exhausted.

I woke up sharply as someone nudged me. Blindly, I reached out for a weapon before remembering that I had allies. My heart was still thudding in my chest as Genn sat down next to me; the Hunger Games played havoc with my survival instincts.

"Hey," I murmured. I was still as tired as before, so I hadn't been asleep for very long. "Am I meant to be awake?"

She held up two new rolls of bandage. "You've got sweat underneath the ones you're wearing, which isn't a good thing. You need to change them; the last thing we want is you dying of blood poisoning. You would be a _really_ terrible ally if you started doing that."

I sat up straighter and peeled the dirty cloth off my forearms. I winced as it caught on new skin and reopened some of the wounds. With the bandages off my arms completely I could see the full extent of the damage. All the way up my arms were small lacerations, crisscrossing in grotesque, intricate patterns. Some of them were deep enough that they were still bleeding, others had already scarred over. Most of the cuts had shadowy, purple bruises surrounding them. I drew in a quick breath, remembering the searing agony of the leeches' bites.

Thankfully, the wounds only throbbed slightly as Genn tightly bound them with the clean cloth. We didn't have any spare water to wash my skin with – not that I cared; my skin crawled at the thought of water nearing my arms. I almost laughed when I realised _I_ was starting to fear _water. _Me, the tribute from District 4 who had spent all of his life at sea, was afraid of water.

"Does it hurt?" Genn asked as she secured the end.

I shook my head. "It's not too bad. I'm just really tired from all the walking today."

"Have some squirrel; we still have a lot left over from last night and it will give you some extra energy."

She pulled me to my feet and I groaned, leaning against a nearby tree heavily before stumbling over to Lian. He grinned at my comatose state as he handed over a large amount of cold squirrel. It didn't taste particularly good, but it replaced some of my lost energy and woke me up a little so I no longer felt like dying in a hole.

"I'm awake," I announced proudly, striding into the centre of the camp, my hands placed on my hips.

"Great," Lian muttered. "Do you mind saying that a little quieter? You're going to chase all the game away."

"Are you going hunting?" I asked and he nodded affirmative. If I was feeling up to walking, I would have offered to go with him, but sitting down still seemed like a good thing to do, so I just waved him goodbye and crouched down next to Genn, who was starting to kindle a fire. Throughout the walk, I had learned a lot about the siblings, and I had realised that they were very good at surviving. They only made fires during the day, with the driest wood possible to prevent smoke. They had discovered the method of getting a lot of water out of the ponds without getting completely devoured by leeches, and they had managed to keep an eye on practically every tribute without being seen once. Why they had needed an ally was almost mind boggling, until I remembered that I had never seen them fighting before. They had probably just wanted a body guard.

"What can I do?" I asked as Genn tried to coax the small sparks into flames.

She spoke without looking at me. "Go and pull those streaming things off the trees and put them next to me."

The 'streaming things' were dead vines that festooned the equally dead trees. They hung limply from the low canopy, some of them only reaching down a few feet, others dragging across the floor. Most were covered in a slimy, brown fungus that made them slip easily from the branches they were draped over. I wandered through the trees – always keeping in sight of Genn in case one of us suddenly required help – pulling the vines off the trees, throwing them over my shoulder. I was glad to know that the walk wasn't tiring me out, though I still hadn't slept since I first woke up.

"I've got the vines," I said while walking back into our camp. Genn had managed to get the fire into a roaring blaze, and was setting up the spit for whatever meat Lian caught. "What are you going to do with it?"

She patted the ground next to her and I sat down, the ropes sliding off my shoulder.

"You said that your best weapons were a trident and a net." I nodded. She continued, "Well, I don't know how to make a trident, but there was that other District 4 tribute a few years ago who managed to make a net out of some old rope, I thought maybe you could do the same with the vines? I know they aren't ideal materials but..."

Genn kept chattering on as I examined the vines with a newfound interest. Of course I knew how to make a net – I had had to repair so many during my life that I could do it in my sleep. The cords weren't the ideal material – a bit too slippery from the fungus – but I could still make something out of them.

"I need nails, or sharpened bits of stick, or something like that," I interrupted, "and lots of small stones."

We both looked around for something that we could use instead of nails – which we obviously didn't have – and after a few minutes of searching, we settled with spears to secure the net while I was working on it. They were much bigger than I ideally wanted, but I was hardly going to find a net-making kit in the arena. I would just have to make do. While Genn searched for stones, I started the actual net. The familiar motions were calming to me, allowing me to sink back into my old life somewhat. Halfway through the net, Lian returned with a small catch of squirrels, looking distinctly annoyed.

"The foods running out," he told us shortly. "There's barely anything around here."

"Gamemakers," I said without looking up from my work. "They're trying to push us together."

Lian sighed angrily and came to sit by me, running his hand through my hair. Genn was already cleaning and skinning the kills. "What are you doing?"

"Making a net. It was Genn's idea, seeing as I don't have a proper weapon."

He looked over my work more carefully, gently running his hands across the edge I had already completed. The vines were hard to weave into the right shape, but I was glad to notice that they didn't fall apart when someone touched them.

"You can use a fishing net in a fight?" Lain asked when he had finished examining it. His voice had a lot of doubt in it.

"Well you can't kill anyone with it, but it comes in handy when you want to incapacitate someone with it, or slow them down or something." I finished the third edge and stuck a spear through it to keep it pinned down while I started on the last edge.

It was shaping up to be big - at least a metre and a half on each side. The holes between the vines were large enough to fit a hand through, but a person couldn't fit through them. In all of the sides were heavy rocks that would keep whatever I caught down on the floor. I couldn't help but smile in satisfaction as I finished it – I may not have a proper weapon, but I could now disable the Careers, allowing me to get close enough to stab them.

I was just removing the spears as Genn announced that out meagre dinner was ready. I fell on my portion like a starving dog, swallowing half of the pieces whole before remembering to chew first. It didn't taste as good as the squirrel Jewel had caught, but it wasn't diseased and that was good enough for me.

"We're going to have to move soon," I said while licking any remaining juices off my fingers, "if there's no food no here."

"Yeah," Lian sighed in agreement. "It's a pity; I hoped we would be able to stay in this place for a little longer."

"Obviously the audience is getting bored." I stood up and grabbed my net off the ground, testing the weight. "But after a good night's sleep I'll be ready to go – and I've got _this_ now. I won't be pathetic in a fight anymore." It was comforting to know that I would be able to hold my own in a battle finally.

Genn eyed the net with reservation. "Are you sure you should be jumping into fights with just a net?"

Their scepticism was starting to get on my nerves, so I gestured for her to stand up as I replied, "You really underestimate what a net can do. Let me demonstrate."

Both of my allies got to their feet – Genn, because I asked her to, and Lian, because he probably wanted to protect his sister. Their love for each other would be cute in the Districts, but in the arena is was just plain weird. Family devotion was an unheard of thing in the Games.

"Come at me as if you want to kill me," I ordered as I readjusted the net in my hand so it fell right. Lian and Genn shared an uneasy glance before stalking forward.

Before they could take two steps, I had sent my net sailing towards them. It hit Lian full on, the weight making him fall backwards into Genn. They both crashed to the floor, their struggles only causing the net to smother them more. I snorted as I pulled the net off them, reassured that I could definitely live a few more days.

"Okay, come forward again," I said when they were both standing upright, brushing sand off their robes.

That time they didn't hesitate. With a noise resembling a snarl, Lian jumped forward, his sister following close behind with an equally fearsome expression. I threw the net at their ankles this time, the mass of the stones giving the vines enough momentum to wrap around both of their legs, forcing them to fall flat on their faces. I laughed outright as Genn pushed herself up, spitting out globules of sand.

"Again?" I asked.

"No!" Genn said quickly. "We understand that your net is an awe inspiring weapon and we'll stop doubting you."

I smiled angelically, aware that after six days in the arena I would not be looking my finest, and sat back down next to the fire. The sun had started to dip below the horizon, and I was eager to retain any heat that the fire could give me – Lian and Genn would be putting it out soon, scared of being discovered by other tributes. Simply the thought of the freezing night that was coming had me shivering. If only I had thought to take one of the blankets from the Career's stack…

Inspiration struck me like lightening, and I found my backpack, stored in the shade of a tree. Out of it, I pulled the spare set of clothes I _had_ thought to bring. They weren't the ideal shape for a blanket, but there was enough material to provide another valuable layer.

As if on cue, Lian walked over with a bottle of old water and poured it on the flames, extinguishing the warmth. I groaned quietly and dragged my scant possessions away to one side of the camp. Lian and Genn walked over to the other, arguing over who was doing the first watch. Though I had decided to trust them, I was glad that they weren't sleeping close to me, it _was_ the Hunger Games, and alliances sometimes did end messily. Using my pack as a pillow, my net as a sheet and my spare clothes as a duvet, I tried to trick myself into believing I was at home in my bed with Ariel next door and my Dad across the hall. It didn't work, but the images of my family were comforting in the cold desert, and I didn't lie awake restlessly as I had before. Happily, I sunk into my dreams.

They all centred on the one thing I wanted most: to win the Games and go home. Various fantastical situations flickered through my head: the hovercraft picking me up; my post-Games interviews; hugging Mags hello and listening to her praise; the train journey home; seeing my family; the Victor's tour; the money and the glory. My name would be on the lips of every person in the District, not as a poor tribute who was reaped, but as a _winner._

But the dream that stuck in my head, as if on replay, was a simple one.

_I sat in the front garden of my new house, the sun shining on me as I repaired one of our old and broken fishing nets. The Games were over, and the details were fading from my memory already. Mags was tottering around in the garden next to me, caring for her flowers. We had been chatting about Lyme, one of the other Victors who lived opposite us; however once we had finished our little complaining session we lapsed into a companionable silence._

"_Finnick!" a young, carefree voice called out. I twisted in my chair to see Ariel unlocking the front gate, holding hands with Dad, who had gone to pick her up from school._

"_Hello trouble," I said, pushing aside my work and allowing the nine year old to crawl up onto my lap. "Aren't too old for this sort of thing? After all, it is your birthday tomorrow."_

"_I'm allowed to sit on your lap if I want. Besides, I'm never going to be too old to get a hug from you."_

_I wrapped my arms around her skinny body, pulling her close to me. Over her shoulder, I saw Dad and Mags nattering to each other across the picket fence._

_I couldn't help restrain the smile that spread across my face. Finally, I was happy._

Then I was rudely awakened by someone punching me hard in the gut.

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_Next chapter: __**22**__**nd**__**/23**__**rd**__** January**_

_Good news! My exams finish on Wednesday this week (wooo!) and so I have more time to write. You're still only getting updates once a week though, it just means they will be much better edited as I will have more energy to care. Anyway, I have a Chemistry GCSE on Monday, so the next chapter may be slightly rushed as I am notoriously bad at Chemistry and will need to spend the whole of this weekend revising (heavily sarcastic wooo!)_


	11. The Trident

_Thank you to LetTheObsessionBegin, who gave me the idea behind this chapter and the rest of the plot of the arena. ;)_

_I'm sorry that last chapter was just a filler chapter – they're unpleasant to write and boring to read, but sadly, they're necessary, Finnick couldn't had to make his net and he needed a spare day to do it._

_THIS one, however, is 8 pages long and though it starts slow, gets interesting. Fishnick (as I have now dubbed him) is starting to really understand the Hunger Games._

_Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Belong to Suzanne Collins._

_Enjoy._

_One shot requests! (read the end of the chapter to find out details)_

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**Chapter Eleven: The Trident**

In a moment I was on my feet, blindly punching the air around me, trying to find the thing I needed to kill. Adrenaline coursed through my body, waking me up and making me alert to my surroundings.

To my intense confusion there was no one standing near me. The sun was low in the sky, meaning I had slept soundly through the night for the first time, and the light gave no hiding places for a tribute. A silver glint caught my eye and I looked down. A large metal box lay at my feet, covered by an even larger silver parachute. Slowly, my addled brain put two and two together. I hadn't been punched; the box had been dropped on top of me. I let my muscles relax, feeling shaky from the adrenaline rush.

Lian was on watch, and he was staring at me, his eyebrows raised and a slight smile on his face. I realised that I must have just looked like a completely freak.

"Morning," I said coolly, trying to regain some of my credibility. I smoothed down my wild hair and brushed the sand off my clothes.

"Good morning. You've got a gift."

I looked back at the parachute. "A _big_ gift."

Lian quickly glanced through the trees, and then came over to inspect the box with me. It was completely unmarked except for the large Capitol seal painted on the lid, certifying its origins. Carefully, as if it was an unexploded bomb, I knelt down and unlatched the lid, pushing it open. Lian exhaled sharply as he saw the contents and then started talking about its value; my jaw dropped as I saw the treasure.

It was filled with a black material that was probably there for padding. Nestled in the centre was a trident. I picked it up with reverence, amazed that I had had so many sponsors. The thing could _not _have been cheap.

It was metal, but the lightest metal I had ever felt. I could easily lift it and carry it with one hand; meaning throwing and fighting were going to be effortless. The prongs were razor sharp and were translucent, like diamond. On the end of the handle was a large sphere of metal that could smash someone's skull as if it was made of glass. It had grips placed evenly down the rest of the golden handle, right up to the split for the prongs. Embedded in the surface were small clusters of emeralds in a wave patterns. As well as being deadly, the trident was unbelievably _pretty_.

"Wow," I finally managed to say, rotating the weapon in my hands so I could see it from all angles.

"I can't even _begin_ to imagine how much that cost."

I shook my head in disbelief, and then raised my head to the sky, where a camera could pick up on my face.

"Thank you," I announced, "to anyone who helped pay for this. My District, my friends, my sponsors, it's an unbelievable gift. Thank you. And thanks for sending the medicine for my arms," I tagged on as an afterthought.

Movement from the tree line caught my eye, and I jerked my head to the right, automatically preparing myself for a fight. But it was just Genn – her black hair sticking up at irregular angles and her clothes tangled around her body.

"What's going on?" she mumbled through a yawn. "Why're you making so much noise?"

"Finnick got sent a lovely gift," Lian said and shoved my arm forward, putting the trident on full display. "We were admiring. Besides, it's about time you got up; we'll need to move on soon to find food."

Genn had stopped paying attention to her brother once she caught sight of the trident. She pushed herself up, rearranging her clothes as she stumbled over to us.

"Can I hold it?" she asked. Reverently, as if I was handing over a newborn baby, I passed the trident to her. She held it awkwardly, surprised by the weight and balance.

"It's _beautiful_," she murmured as she slowly spun it in her hands. "You have some nice sponsors." Lian held his hands out for the weapon.

"His sponsors are awesome. I'm jealous." Lian gave me back the – _my_ – trident and headed over to the backpacks, pulling out the last packets of dried fruit. "Nutritious and filling breakfast, anyone?"

I laughed as he chucked the packets across the clearing to us; he threw wide, so my dried fruit had a light dusting of sand, but my mouth didn't even notice the texture as I chewed on the food. It was going soggy, and the nice taste had long since faded, but it stopped my stomach caving in – for the morning.

Once we were all awake, including Genn – who I discovered was _not_ a morning person, even in the arena – Lian gave out the jobs for the day. Mainly they involved getting enough water out of the ponds for a long trek back to the Cornucopia, to try and find the food that was evading us. Genn stayed by the fire, covering all traces of our camp, while Lian and I lugged all of our containers to the nearest water hole – my net and trident balanced precariously alongside the bottles.

With the bandages still wrapped around my arms as evidence of the nightmares lurking underneath the surface, I would have happily stayed back but Lian's pointed glare made me stagger unwillingly forward and help him distract the little fishies so one of us could get leech-free water.

They weren't easily distracted. We tried throwing sand, rocks, and branches in to create ripples and confuse them, but they seemed to sense our presence and the silver flickers stayed securely in our shadows, waiting. Eventually, Lian had to stick his hand into the pond to attract their attention while I furiously scooped water into the bottles before something tried to nibble him.

"One more bottle," I said after an hour, wiping sweat off my forehead. There had been several close encounters, where Lian had leapt away from the water with a piranha attached to his hand. The pests didn't seem to be poisonous, but Lian said they stung like hell and didn't let go.

I eyed him sucking on the most recent bite. "Are you sure you don't want me to stick my hand for the last one?"

Like my other offers, Lian declined. Shaking his head, he removed his finger from his mouth, saying, "You've had your fair share of leeches. There's only one more bottle, it won't take long."

I nodded and grabbed the last bottle. "You know, this water supply is never ending. I expected it to go down at least a little bit."

Lian didn't seem to be listening to what I was saying as he rolled up his sleeve for the last time. "On three," he said. "One... Two... Three!"

He stuck his hand straight into the water, and then a second later winced – my cue that the animals were interested in the bit of human flesh on the other side of the puddle. Hastily, I ran the bottle through the pond, trying to scoop as much water as I could into the bottle. With a yelp of pain, Lian withdrew his hand, flicking all the leeches back into the water. He sighed as he inspected his hand – scraped raw from the leeches and bruised from the piranhas. I carefully screwed the cap back onto the bottle and collected the other full containers. Lian covered his hand with his sleeve before accepting a few of the bottles. I hoisted my net and trident over my shoulder, and stood up, kicked some sand into the pond in distaste and hoped that it had got into the stupid piranha's eyes.

"Hey, Lian, wait," I called.

"What?" he said, turning around.

"The pond... It's overflowing."

With a sigh he walked back over to me. "What are you talking about?"

"Look," with the toe of my shoe, I poked the water's edge, which was a few centimetres higher than it had been before we took the water out. "It's gone up. Even though we just filled eleven bottles with the water."

Lian looked nervously at the water and then shrugged. "An extra two centimetres of water isn't something to get worried about. We need to get going soon or we'll really understand the meaning of the _Hunger_ Games."

I followed him back to the camp, stopping once to glance uneasily at the water level. But, like Lian said, we had other things to be doing than worrying about the water.

Back at camp, Genn had covered the ashes of the fire with sand and hidden all of our footprints from the night before. I helped her pack the water bottles into the packs then packed up my make-shift bed from the night before. None of knew what to do with the box so we just tucked in into the forest slightly, hoping the Capitol would pick it up as they left.

We finally left the small enclosure at midday – the worst time to be walking, in my opinion. The air was even warmer than usual, and I could see the hot gas quivering in front of me as I walked. The heat was paired with an abnormal humidity that made it almost impossible to breathe. Even the trees that we walked past appeared to be sweating; little beads of water covered their trunks and branches and the warm water would drip down on us as we trudged through the forest. After two hours of walking, all of the water we had collected earlier had been drunk and my throat was still parched.

"We need to stop and get water," I gasped eventually. "At the next piranha pond we're stopping and I'm drinking, I don't care if those bloody things eat my face or not." The others were silent but out of the corner of my eye I saw Genn nodding.

It was another half an hour before I caught the glint of water through the trees. An exhausted smile stretched across my face as I pushed the dead branches out of the way, but I stopped dead as I finally go to the edge of the pond. Instead of a little circle of water, there was a flood, several metres in diameter. Ripples were spreading from the middle of the lake as even more water was pumped into the arena.

"Uh oh," Genn whispered from my side. The water was spreading quickly, gaining centimetres every second. I stared in horror at the other tributes, backing away from the shore. Genn mimicked my look. "They're flooding it," she whispered.

Obviously the tactic of just taking away our food wasn't enough for a hungry Capitol audience.

"Run," Lian ordered, spinning on his heel and fleeing through a couple of trees. "Come on!"

Genn and I followed him through the tangled web of branches. The clawed thorns from the resilient shrubbery that littered the forest floor caught on my costume as I ran, ripping it and tangling it around my legs. My already exhausted body complained after every step and I was starting to feel weak from dehydration.

We sprinted past another rapidly expanding pond, barely managing to keep our feet out of the water. It was flooding quicker. The adrenaline started coursing through my veins as I saw the flashes of silver underneath the surface. If anyone was stuck in the water then they would be shredded in seconds.

The other two paused and I joined them. All of us were panting.

"We need to get to some place high." Sweat was dripping off my face onto the ground.

"There's a sand dune," Genn said. "But I don't know where it is."

Lian, who was an unnerving grey colour, shook his head, flicking his hair away from his eyes. "It's back the way we came."

"The water's going to catch up with us soon," Genn said. "We need to get to a hill."

As if listening to her words, water started creeping around the trees, trickling into the dents our footprints had made. For the first time in the arena, dark clouds were crawling across the blue sky, blocking out the sun and trapping the heat underneath.

"Or up a tree," I suggested.

The trees were hard to climb, and their branches only started above head height. But with the water sneaking up on our heels, we didn't have a choice. I threw my net at a longing hanging branch, letting it wrap round the bark. I didn't have time to test whether the branch was stable or not, I just hoisted myself up and then offered a hand to Genn and Lian, who were dancing out of the reach of the water. As soon as we were perched in the tree, we started to climb into the higher branches until they became too thin to sit on. Genn climbed like a monkey, flitting right up to the tallest braches and expertly balancing on them. Lian followed her with less enthusiasm. Like me, he seemed to be too exhausted to move.

"You're good at climbing," I told them as I got more comfortable on my wide branch. I had tied my trident onto another nearby branch using my net, afraid that I would drop it if I was holding it. Below our tree, the water was deepening, lapping around the base of the trunk. We were a few metres up, but I still watched the water uneasily.

"That's what we do in 7," Genn said from the tree tops. "On some trees, the most valuable wood is at the top so it needs to be cut first, otherwise it could get damaged. And there were these trees in our forests that we called Mimics because they looked identical to Black Walnut but you could eat the new growth in the spring. The children always climb them at lunch times to harvest them." There was a sad smile on her face as she talked about her District.

"What about these trees?"

Genn shook her head. "It's all dead wood. We're lucky it's not rotten dead wood."

The water rose another inch and I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the trunk. If it kept rising there was nowhere we could go. Having a trident wouldn't even help me.

Obviously Lian had the same thoughts as me because he quietly asked, "What do you know about piranhas?"

"I know lots about ordinary piranhas, but those are mutts, I think. Usually piranhas scavenge... And they don't have a taste for humans like this lot do." In the warmer seas around District 4, piranhas were common. They were only fished for souvenirs, they didn't taste particularly nice and the Capitol had no bizarre use for them. Contrary to the children's bedtime stories, they ignored humans and ate other, smaller fish in the sea.

"Can they be killed?"

"If you stick a spear through its head." Lian looked back down at the water and I smirked. "But you can't kill a fish by glaring at it, Lian, so don't waste your energy. Especially since it doesn't look like you have much left."

"Huh?" Lian looked up, surprised. "I feel fine, what are you talking about?"

I frowned. "You look exhausted or _really _ill. You seriously feel fine?"

"A bit dizzy..." He trailed off as Genn swung herself onto his branch and pressed the back of her grimy hand against his forehead.

She gasped and tested his temperature with her other hand before saying, "You're burning up, Lian. You _can't_ feel fine with a fever like that."

He shook her hand off and glared at us. "I'm fine, just pissed off at this stupid flood. Leave it, okay?"

"But you might have flu or something worse," she protested. "Did you eat something raw?"

"I didn't do anything! I'm _fine_, Genn. How many more times do I have to say that?"

"But your temperature... Did you cut yourself or do anything that could give you an infection?"

Realization dawned on me. "He got bitten by piranhas this morning, we were getting water."

Genn frowned at me. "_You_ were eaten by those devils too; I don't remember seeing you getting a fever."

"_I_ was eaten by leeches, actually. I doubt you get poisonous leeches. Besides, I passed out – for all we know, I could've had a fever – and there's nothing we can do about Lian's temperature while we're here as we don't have any medicine."

Genn fluttered uselessly by his side for a little longer before hopping down to my branch. We sat in silence, anxiety filling the space in between us. Eventually, it got too much to bear and I had to say something.

"Let's talk."

She blinked as if slowly coming out of a daydream. "About what?"

"I don't know. The weather, the currency, the magnificence that is Finnick Odair. I don't care, you choose."

"I'm not sure there's much magnificence about Finnick Odair," she joked. "He's a bit of a prick, actually."

I raised an eyebrow at this newfound humour. "Really? I can think of _many_ wonderful things. My hair, for example, is beautiful. Even after a week in the arena, it stays looking gorgeous. And I haven't even washed it."

"That's disgusting," Genn said through giggles.

"Well it would be if it got greasy, but it hasn't!" I grabbed her hand and put it on my head. She laughed again and tussled my hair playfully. "You see, Finnick Odair _is_ magnificent. With a capital 'm'."

"Finnick Odair is arrogant with a capital 'a'," she retorted. "But I have to admit – your hair is amazing."

I smiled my most charming smile – the one I used to get out of detentions at school - and said, "I never claimed I wasn't arrogant, but when you're as fabulous as I am, you're allowed to be big-headed."

"You're very fabulous, Finnick." She paused to snort and then repeated, "Fabulous Finnick. That's you all over."

"Why thank you, glorious Genn." We both smiled at each other as the water crawled up the tree trunk. It was at least a metre and a half deep already, and there was only another metre or so until it reached the lowest branches.

Genn stared down at the dark, swirling waters with me, and I felt her hand tighten on the branch. I just watched the piranhas circling below, contemplating whether my death was going to be painful.

"It was a stupid Gamemaker plot to drive us together," Genn sniffed. "The three of us are stuck in a tree, the Capitol must be dying slowly of boredom."

"Maybe they managed to get enough tributes onto that hill that we didn't matter. How many others are there left?"

"Five. The boys from 2 and 11, and the girls from 1, 3 and 10. If they're all on the hill it would make for an interesting fight, I guess."

She was trembling slightly – her whole body shook, seemingly with fear or sorrow. I reached to her, intending to put my arm around her shoulders to comfort her, when I noticed that my arm was quivering like hers. The shaking intensified; little bits of dead bark fell from the trees landing in the water with little splashes. The piranhas fell on them instantly, obviously hoping it was meat.

"What the he-"

My confusion was cut off as the whole arena jerked to the side, almost throwing us all out of the tree. Genn just managed to grab Lian and hold him down as the desert shook around us. I was grateful that I had tied my trident to the branch. The tremors stopped as abruptly as they had begun, but everything was still trembling slightly. Before I could ask, Genn was shooting up to the highest branches of the tree, checking if the coast was clear.

"Can you see anything?" I called, cautiously getting a better hold on the tree with one hand, tightening my net around the trident with the other. Genn didn't answer. "Is there anything there, Genn?" I dropped my voice and looked at Lian, who was staring at the world through half-closed eyes.

Genn screamed, and my eyes jerked up to her silhouette, which was streaking back down to us. Below, waves started washing through the water. Automatically, I hugged the trunk harder, waiting for the next earthquake.

"Watch out, Finn-" Genn managed to say as she wrapped her arms around her brother and the tree.

Before she could finish her sentence, there was a loud roaring as an eight foot wave crashed over us, turning the world blue. My eyes opened, accustomed as they were to being underwater. There was a stinging on my hand I looked down to see a few leeches already stuck to my skin. Sluggishly, I moved my hand through the water, hitting it against the tree and smearing the squashed leech onto the bark as the wave passed. There was a few seconds of silence as the three of us panted, and then hell descended.

Wave after wave broke on top of us, trying to tears our arms from the tree. Each was filled with more leeches and piranhas which managed to bite and tear as they swam passed. The dark clouds started to pour with rain, and winds howled through the branches.

The heat vanished from my body in an instant; instead I was filled with an aching cold that resonated everywhere in my body. The water was icy and soaked into my clothes. Once a wave had passed, I gasped, panting in as much as possible while the wind blew the cold material against my skin. The roaring grew louder again as another wall of icy blue collapsed on top of me. Below, the water had reached the lower branches and was quickly making its way up.

The onslaught didn't stop. My arms grew weaker and weaker, my body already exhausted from the running that morning, until they were numb, just hanging onto the tree out of instinct. All my fatigued brain could concentrate on was staying on the tree. I didn't care how Lian or Genn were faring; I didn't care that they were possibly dead. I just wanted it to be over.

The attacks from the underwater creatures became more frequent, and it became too much effort to flick the leeches off. They left as the wave passed, anyway. The newly healed skin on my arms quickly deteriorated, red welts opening and scabs falling off, but the cold numbed the pain and I managed not to pass out.

And then it was calm.

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_Just a quick note to you all (it will be at the top of the next chapter too, in bold, for the ones who miss this), the story will have to be moved up to an **M** rating. Not because of lemons or anything like that - but rereading the Guidelines, the violence coming soon, and then the... events... after he wins the games require the highest rating. That's just letting ya know. :)_

_Next chapter: **29th/30th **January :)_

_Now – as I said in the last chapter, I finished my exams! And suddenly I feel like I have a load of free time and no work to do nor any plans for the next few weekends. This means that I want to be doing loads of writing but I have no clue what about. If you want me to write anything for you (from the Hunger Games, or the others listed on my profile) then just say in a review. Literally, can be anything, I just want to do loads of writing. :)_


	12. The Eye of the Storm

_And the rating is now M. To all of my readers: don't worry, there won't be any graphic lemons it just gets quite violent, and contains 'mature content'. This chapter is about as violent as it's going to get._

_The Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins._

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**Chapter Twelve: The Eye of the Storm **

The calm was eerie after the rioting waves. I waited, tense and shivering for another wave to descend on me, but there was nothing; the roaring sound of the oncoming waves had disappeared and the black clouds were already thinning, the sun beginning to shine through.

Stiffly, I unlocked my arms from the branch, rubbing my painful skin. Thankfully, the beasts had avoided my face, so my sponsors would still want to send me gifts. With that thought it my head, I looked up, desperately worried that my trident had been swept away by a powerful wave. To my relief, it was still there –the water dripping off it in miniature waterfalls. With shaking hands, I unwrapped my net, happy to have the familiar weights of the weapons in my hands again.

It was only after I was certain that I was okay, did I think to check on Lian and Genn. Or, rather, the _absence_ of Lian and Genn. Alarmed, I realised that the siblings had disappeared from their branch and –with rising panic – that as their ally, I had to go and help them. I wouldn't be able to face my family again if I bailed on them now.

I climbed hastily to the highest branch that could hold my weight and scanned the trees other trees, hoping to see them clutching on to one of them. From my new vantage point I could see the full damage that the waves had done. The water level was at least three and a half metres, too deep to be able to wade through it. Most trees had been uprooted and were bobbing on the surface like a floating path. The absence of those trees meant there were huge expanses of water all around me. I almost felt like I was home. Until I saw Genn, struggling to keep an unconscious Lian afloat on a tree while desperately trying to keep her head above the water. At first I thought it was because she couldn't swim, but as the water turned a deep red, I realised it was because of something much different.

"Help!" she cried out to me when she caught my eye. "Finnick! Oh god, help! There's something-" she went under again.

Careful not to fall into the water myself, I leapt onto a floating tree, grabbing the sides as it precariously rocked, and then carefully stood up still clutching the sides. On all fours I scrambled forward, the momentum pushing the log toward a tree closer to my allies.

Genn resurfaced again, pushing hair furiously out of her eyes and spitting out mouthful of bloody water. Desperately, I tried to move faster as her screams of pain and fear were cut off as she was dragged under again. It was only when I was a few feet away from the three that I saw the pair of brown eyes staring at me from the tangle of branches. I tried to stop, but the momentum that the log had gained was keeping it going forward. With my mouth set, I got a better grip of my trident and prepared to jump into the tree. I had no idea who the mystery tribute was, but they seemed to be determined to get in my way.

Before I even got into the branches, two arrows shot out at me. One flew straight past me into the water, but the other lodge into my left arm. I yelped and leapt head first into the tree – my trident pointing forward – before whoever it was could shoot me again.

My trident stuck into the branch and I yanked it out with a frustrated snarl. And turned to face my opponent. I took me a moment to remember her – Millie, from 3 or 6 or of the middle Districts; she got an eight in training.

I immediately put my guard up; dodging out of way of the third arrow she sent flying at my heart. Obviously had experience with a bow and arrow.

I dimly registered Genn screaming my name as I tried to dodge arrows and keep my balance on a scarily thin branch. I felt myself tipping backwards and so lunged forward, trying to spear her through the stomach, but she was obviously much more at home on the branches than I was. It was probably due to the fact that she could stand upright without fear of them breaking underneath her weight.

From a few branches above me she laughed. "Your little allies are being eaten, you know that." I just avoided another arrow, it grazed my head as it passed and I began to feel blood dripping down through my hair. "Uh oh... Little Genn has just gone under again. Won't be long until she stops fighting altogeth-"

Her sentence was cut off by my net wrapping around her ankles, pulling her down the branches. She screamed as she fell, but managed to catch herself before she fell into the water, the net falling off her feet, I reeled in back in, cursing to myself that it hadn't stayed there longer. However I had the advantage. She barely had time to draw an arrow before I threw the net again. This time, it landed completely on top of her, pushing her down onto the branch.

Before she could get back up, I stabbed my trident into her back. It caught slightly as I smashed it through her spine and deeper into her internal organs. Blood dripped from her lips into the water; piranhas swarmed around the little red spots. The pulled my trident back out, trying not to look at the three gaping holes in her back. Shattered bits of white bone decorated one of the punctures.

The cannon didn't fire, and I realised with a jolt of horror that she was still alive. I felt bile rising up in my throat as raised the trident again. I studied her body, trying to work out where it would actually kill her – eventually I just drove it through her skull. The cannon fired as I felt the bone crack and give way to soft tissue.

When I withdrew the trident, it was covered in a congealed puce slime that I realised, with disgust, was brain. It was only Genn's screams that made me reach down and pull my net off her, before pushing the body into the water, distracting the piranhas while I jumped onto another floating tree. As I glanced back, I saw only a few bones floating on the surface, completely stripped of all muscle. I pushed the log forward, using my trident as an oar, being extremely careful not to put any part of my body in the water.

I was only a few metres away from the siblings now. Genn was limply hanging on the Lian, but even I could see that she didn't have any strength left. She was covered in blood, leaking from the lacerations that covered every inch of her skin.

As I pulled her up carefully onto my tree and then saw the full extent of the damage. At first, my brain couldn't take it in, but slowly the details registered.

Her legs weren't there anymore. They just weren't. A few shreds of her thighs were left draping over a bit of exposed bone. Her clothes were in tatters, revealing the cavities in her torso; her innards were painfully obviously through these holes. Her arms were marginally undamaged, only the cuts from the leeches marked her skin. She turned her head towards me, her mouth had been torn on one side and her right eye was missing.

I couldn't help vomiting into the water. It wasn't right to be alive after so much destruction.

Her mouth quivered slightly as tears slipped down from her remaining eye.

"What?" I muttered and moved my ear closer to her mutilated mouth. "I can't hear you."

"Hurts," she whispered.

Stroking her hair I mumbled reassurances and pressed my lips to her forehead. Into her inky hair – the only part of her that was completely untouched aside from the blood smears – I simply said, "I'm sorry."

"Lian." She reached out for his hand as I held his tree close to ours. He was in a state of delirium and I was sure he wasn't aware of the world. "Mommy. Daddy. Hurts."

She died then, in my arms.

Unsure of what the ceremony in District 7 was, I simply closed her tattered eyelids and rearranged the scraps of clothes to cover her a bit more decently. I hesitated, trying to find the right words, before pushing her gently into the water. She fell in with a splash, and menacingly large shadow under the water pulled her body away before I could blink.

Lian had been unaware of all this, he lay on the tree, whipping his head around to stare at everything with fevered eyes. Without looking back I pushed myself and Lian forward, using my trident an oar, relieved as we neared the safety of another clump of trees.

When I looked back, four large brown fins were poking above the water, moving in slow circles. I shivered and used the tree as leverage to push the pair of trees carrying me and Lian away as fast as possible.

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_Next chapter: __**2**__**nd **__**February**__._

_Lucky you! Getting a chapter on Wednesday instead of Saturday! (It's because I feel bad as this chapter is so ridiculously short, and the next one isn't epically long so it's not worth you waiting a week)._


	13. Sand

_Early update! Woo! Mainly because this is such a short chapter and wasn't worth a week's wait._

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed/alerted :)_

_Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins._

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**Chapter Thirteen: Sand**

We spent the night on a large tree. I had tied Lian to a branch using my net as he was thrashing around so much from the pain of the bites. Obviously the poison affected him badly, my whole body was stinging as if acid was running in my veins, but it was an inconvenience. Lian was out of his mind with pain, fluctuating between shouting in agony and lying so still I had to check his pulse. From the higher tree branches, I could see a hill of sand sticking up from the blue water. I would have gone there straight away, but Lian's cries would have alerted the other tributes to our whereabouts.

So I spent a sleepless in an uncomfortable tree watching Lian scream and call out to his sister and his parents.

As the sun rose in the morning I untied Lian from the branch and set him back on the logs. It was only fifty metres to the hill, but his constant thrashing meant it took me the whole morning to propel ourselves over there. By the time I got to sandy hill I was so exhausted and irritated that I was ready to leave Lian to be killed, but the memories of Genn and Millie kept me from doing either of that. Instead, I hauled him up the sand so he didn't roll back into the water and then sat on my haunches, staring out across the dune, waiting for another tribute to appear.

As the sun began to set, I grew bored of waiting and gathered up the two water bottles that Lian had been carrying. It had been ages since I had drunk anything and even longer since I had eaten – but we had finished our food during the walk before the wave came. It was a relief to drink water again, though. It consumed an hour or so of waiting as I perfect a technique of letting the absorbent material of my robes suck in water and then squeezing it out into a bottle, but it meant my hand never had to get too close to the dangers under the surface.

At one point Lian opened his eyes and glared at me. Sweat covered his shivering body, dripping onto the sand below him. I went to his side immediately, lifting his head up slightly to trickle some more water into his mouth.

"Lian, stay awake now, this isn't the time to be sleeping," I ordered. His eyes started to close again, so I shook him hard. "Wake _up_. It's hard to save you when you keep dying on me." I sighed in relief as his eyes opened again. "Why don't you do the talking? Tell me about District 4; tell me anything you want to get off your chest."

"This is your fault," he croaked through cracked lips. "It's your fault she's dead."

I didn't respond; I couldn't think of what to say. My eyes shifted uncomfortably away from his face, instead looking out at the sea all around us. I could see the fins of the huge piranhas sticking up above water, circling ominously, reminding me of pushing Millie towards their hungry mouths.

However Lian didn't seem to care that I wasn't paying attention to him. "I never wanted to be your ally. It was all Genn's idea; she thought that you would be a _decent _guy because you were hot. She was hoping you would fall in love with her while we were in the arena. You didn't see her face in the tree because you weren't paying attention, but she was so happy that you were talking to her." He spat a mouthful of blood onto the sand next to him. "Look where it got her. She _died_ and you didn't even _bother_ to try and save her, you just let the piranhas get her. My sister. You let her die. You killed her, like you killed that other girl."

I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my head on them. My eyes dropped from the muttated piranhas fins, down to my trident, lying on the ground, still stained with blood. Millie's blood.

"You killed her," Lian croaked quietly before slipping back into unconsciousness.

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_Next update:__** 5th/6th February**_


	14. Feast

_I so nearly forgot about this update. That's why it's such a late update. However it is a longer chapter this time._

_Disclaimer: The Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins._

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**Chapter Fourteen: Feast**

Before my Mum died, I had been hungry a lot. With a newborn Ariel to look after, the amount of time my parents had to fish decreased rapidly. We didn't live by the sea then, we lived in the poorer slums around the centre of town and we rented a space for our boat at the docks. The only other source of income was my job at school on Sundays, and it was meager amount.

We grew hungrier and hungrier, living off the scraps of stale bread that the bakers used to leave out for the poor. Every penny went towards food. I was young then and the memories had faded slightly, but I could still remember my parent's desperation as the food ran out. They tried to hide it from me – especially my mother, she hated that I wasn't going to get the same upbringing as the rest of District 4 – but their lies didn't put food on the table, and everyone could notice that I was just a bit _too_ thin, that I never had quite enough energy to run around with my friends. My mother used to hug me when I was feeling left out. She would pull me close to her and comb my hair with her hands while telling me everything good that had happened to her. It always made me feel better.

Then, when Ariel was three months, there was food again. My mother had got a job – I was never told what it was, both of my parents hated to discuss what she was doing. Once, I followed her. All she did was go into a rundown building and spend the whole evening inside, not coming out until early in the morning. I spent all night crouched in a doorway, watching the steady stream of men walking in and out, waiting for my mother to come out and take me home.

When she emerged, she barely saw me curled up on the cold stone. It was only when I blearily raised my exhausted head that she recognized me and picked me up, hugging me fiercely before carrying me home and putting me to bed.

It was only a month after that experience that she died.

It seemed cruel, that my mother dying would be the thing that saved my family. With one less mouth to feed and my father getting a proper fishing job that gave him a steady wage, we survived. We moved to a house next to the sea and close to the centre of town so it was easy to trade the day's catch. As I grew up, her death became less tragic, and just another bad event of that time. I sometimes went weeks without thinking of her.

But it was times like this – curled up on the boiling arena floor, my stomach clamouring for the food I couldn't give it – that I really wanted to feel her arms around me. My sponsors had delivered me a meal, still steaming, from the Capitol. However I could only have a few mouthfuls of the flavoursome stuff before I wanted to vomit. It was too rich after a week in the arena, eating puny squirrels. I had fed most of it to Lian, who didn't even seem to notice, saving the District 4 seaweed rolls for myself. That was the last thing I had been sent, and it wasn't enough.

Cladius Templesmith's voice boomed out into the arena, making me jump out of my thoughts.

"To the six remaining tributes: congratulations! You're in sight of the end of the sixty fifth Hunger Games! To celebrate this momentous achievement, I'm hosting a feast in your honour. This grand banquet will be held at the peak of the sand dune, remember; don't snatch until the cannon fires! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favour!" The broadcast ended with the familiar crackle of static.

Lian was unaffected by the intruding sound. He wasn't going to live much longer unless someone sent him a cure, but nothing was forthcoming. It almost seemed cruel to keep him alive, but killing seemed too much like putting down an animal that had been run over. Lian wasn't a dog, he was just a boy. He deserved to be treated like one in his death. He wasn't going to – he was going to die in agony, writhing on the sandy floor – but I didn't let myself consider this as I picked up my net and trident in shaking hands.

"Lian," I spoke clearly, hoping to get his attention. "There's a bottle of water right next to you, okay? Drink it if you get thirsty. I'm going to try and get some food."

He didn't make any sign of hearing him so I nudged the bottle of water right up to his side, so he could feel the cold plastic surface. I surveyed him and nodded to myself, certain that there wasn't anything else I could do. Though leaving him alone meant he could be easily killed by any passing tribute, I could hardly carry him up to the feast.

The walk to the top of the dune wasn't actually that long, but it was tiring and the worried thoughts in my head about who else would be up there made it stretch into an eternal march to hell.

As promised, a large silver table was set up on the top of the dune, littered with an impressive banquet of fruit and meat. My mouth watered just looking at it. However I wasn't the only one admiring. Advancing from the other direction was Jewel, a pair of throwing knives clenched in her hands.

Her hair had been messily hacked off until it just brushed her chin. I suspected she had grown tired of her blonde locks getting knotted and then falling in front of her face. She was covered in little cuts that proved she had been in a fight with the water creatures too. I wondered briefly if she was angry about the way I abandoned them, and her feral snarl answered that question pretty quickly.

Hiefer, the brunette from 10, also hovered uncertainly on the perimeter, a short sword clutched in her hand. She didn't seem to be badly wounded, but her skin clung to her bones in a scary way – it looked as if she hadn't eaten since she got into the arena. Their wary glances at my trident made me grin. As talented as they both were, I had the upper hand with weaponary.

The boom of the cannon startled me into a run. Jewel, too, sprinted towards the food, her knives whizzing towards my head. I dodged easily, throwing my net low, trying to trip her up. Sadly, she anticipated the move and was already moving away as the vines left my hand. My net fell uselessly onto the ground in front of me and I stooped to pick it back up as I ran.

We reached the table at the same time – our weapons flashing forward. Neither of us paid attention to Hiefer, who scooped up a few pieces of food before fleeing from our fray. Jewel's wild smile reappeared on her lips as she succeeded in sticking her knife into my quadriceps. I howled in pain and stopped to pull the dagger out; flicking it back at her with the moves she had taught me. The grin slipped from her face as she recognised this and she launched herself over the table at me.

I sidestepped neatly, throwing my net on top of her as she sprawled on the sandy floor. With a well-practised move, my trident embedded itself between her shoulder blades. A cannon fired.

It had been a quick, bloody battle.

After a quick, cursory sweep of the surroundings – ensuring they were empty – I stuffed as much of the food into my mouth as possible. All of it was slightly off, I realised. The fruit was unpleasantly soft and the fish was rotten but I still ate as much as I could stomach in a minutes. I was hungry enough that food poisoning sounded like a lovely disease. Thankfully, I had enough sense to eat more fruit than meat.

Under the heat of the sun the food was going to go off even faster than normal, so I scooped up as much as I could carry before sliding back down the dune to Lian – hoping to force feed him some of the mushy fruit.

The sand slipped out from under my feet as I ran down the steep hill, and some of the fruit fell out of my hold and burst as it hit the ground. There had been no cannon yet, so I knew Lian wasn't dead, but leaving him alone for much longer would just be tempting fate. Without the distraction of an empty stomach I knew that I had to leave him soon, no matter what condition he was in. Though he and Genn looked after me while I was unconscious, they had medicine and a pair of helping hands. Now, I was alone with another three very unfriendly tributes wanting to kill me – looking after Lian was simply not practical.

I could just see his silhouette amidst the sand and heat. He didn't appear to have moved since I left him, and I slowed down my run, convinced that he was still alive and I didn't need to panic. My trident rubbed against my palm in an unpleasant way, and I stopped to try and reorganise how I was holding everything without dropping all of the food onto the sand. Once everything was sorted, I carried on walking at a meandering pace towards Lian, allowing myself to catch my breath. It was only as I drew nearer that I noticed the person who had appeared behind his body, holding a sword high.

"No!" I yelled and swore, dropping the fruit in the sand as I lurched forward, pulling back my arm to throw.

It was too late. Though I managed to throw the net over Hiefer, she still stuck the blade into Lian. A cannon went off just as I reached her. Through the brown netting, she looked up in terror, her hollow eyes widening in fear as I brought my trident down. A second cannon fired and I pulled the prongs out of her chest, as I did with Millie and Jewel. I ripped the net from her body, disgusted that killing wasn't making an impact on me. I had just _murdered_ a fifteen year old starving girl, who probably had her own family waiting at home, hoping desperately for her return. Maybe she had her own Ariel.

I felt like throwing up again as I picked up the water bottle I had set next to Lian earlier. The water was warm and already going stale, but it helped to settle my stomach for the time being. From Hiefer's unresponsive hand, I got the sword – upon closer inspection I realised it was the one Alys had killed that other boy for, but it was a weapon and I needed back-up options. A bruised apple also lay at my feet, so I munched on that I walked away from the two bodies. The quicker I got away, the quicker the Hovercraft could take them back to their families.

The soft earth and humid air meant that my progress away from the bodies was slower – and made even slower by my wariness of other enemies. Demon was out there somewhere, and I _needed_ to be prepared when I saw him.

Thankfully, a wind was starting to blow through the arena, cooling the sweat on my face. I stood still and just enjoyed the fresh breeze. With my eyes closed I could almost be home – the sand under my feet, the ocean breeze, and the waves lapping up against the shore. But it was the arena and nothing was ever pleasant. The sand was like a bog – slowing down movement and taking away all of your energy – and the water was filled with flesh eating piranhas. Even the cooling breeze had a sharp side. As it increased, it picked up small grains of sand and whipped them against every exposed piece of skin.

I winced as a small cut opened above my eye and I pulled the cloth mask back up around my face. Nothing could be done about my hands, but they were already so scarred and sunburnt that a few extra cuts wouldn't do much. Thankfully, the layers of cloth managed to cover my fairly successfully, despite the few rips here and there from my encounters with other tributes.

I guessed it to be about ten at night when the sun finally dipped behind the ocean. I sat on the steep sand bank watching the soft orange glow light the world up before fading into the darkness of night. The wind still blew, but I ignored it and lay on my back, looking up at the stars.

The arena's sky was the only peaceful part. There was no moon, but the blackness was covered in a map of shining silver points. There were no clouds to obscure the stars that stretched from horizon to horizon. I reached up and traced patterns between them, as if playing a child's connect the dots game.

The stars blinked out of existence – replaced with a huge Capitol seal. Around the arena, the familiar anthem reverberated. There were three faces that night: Jewel, Lian and Hiefer. All of them had been my kills.

With a sigh, I rolled over onto my side, curling around my trident for comfort. My back became a small shield, protecting my face from the whip of the sand, and with this small defence against the arena, I closed my eyes and tried to rest. Who knew what was going to happen tomorrow. Something to drive the last three tributes together, definitely, and probably something to end the Hunger Games as well.

The winds grew stronger, forcing me to cover my face with my sleeve as well as the thin mask. I couldn't guess the Gamemakers' motives in the overnight sandstorm, possibly to stop the tributes killing one another in their sleep (a highly boring finale to the Hunger Games) but it was pretty annoying. With the constant attention of the grains I only got a few, uncomfortable hours of sleep in the early morning.

The force of the wind didn't lessen in that time, and when I awoke for the final time I realised that I had gained a covering of sand that lay over my body and trident like a blanket.

I was about to shake it off myself when movement caught my eye. Cautiously, I moved my head slightly; to see who it was that caught my eye, and whether they had spotted me.

The small body of Emery – the boy from District 11 – leapt down the bank, away from me. Obviously the covering was enough of a camouflage that I couldn't be seen from a few metres away. I took back my earlier annoyance at the Gamemakers, and thanked them silently for sending me the disguise. I doubled my quiet thanks as the massive, towering shadow of Demon followed Emery down the bank, a giant axe swinging from his hand. He too, didn't notice me lying on the floor as he followed the other tribute to the water's edge and then proceeded to whack him on the side of the head with the axe, sending him crashing into the water.

I lay perfectly still on the sand, not even daring to breathe. A plan was forming inside my head already; as soon as Demon was walking away, I would run up behind him and stab him.

He threw his head back and roared happily. I half expected to start beating at his chest like a gorilla, but the thought was wiped from my mind as he spun on his heel and stopped – staring straight at me.

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_Cookies to anyone who can tell me what Fishnick's mother did as a job. ;) (well not cookies, but you will be mentioned in my A/N next chapter – sorry, I know that's a sucky prize)_

_I know I said I was going to stop asking for reviews, but I'm getting so many Story Alerts and only about four reviews... So (this is killing me to say) please, please, pleeease leave a review. Just to let me know that you're actually reading._

_So the final arena chapter will be posted __**12th February.**_


	15. Final Fight

_Finnick, Mags, and the Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins._

_You guys are awesome, you know that? I have a little moan about reviews and then I get almost ten reviews! For __**one **__chapter! I'm such a happy little girl. So, as a reward, you get an update at precisely midnight (and the same amount of reviews for this chapter would be greatly appreciated :P)._

_So it's the last arena chapter! But it is not the last chapter of the story – nowhere near, in fact._

_(As pattyo123 asked, I thought I would let everyone know what they're in for): My plans are to write Finnick's whole life. Yes, right up to Mockingjay. Just to give you an idea of how long this story might turn out to be: currently, I'm writing page 87 and – according to my plan – I'm not even half way through. So prepare yourselves for a looong trip :)_

_Anyway, with that terrifying thought in mind: enjoy._

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**Chapter Fifteen: Final Fight**

My element of surprise had gone and I knew that I wouldn't be able to win in a face-to-face fight against Demon. I leapt to my feet, my trident already clasped in my hand. With an enraged roar, Demon ran towards me, lowering his head slightly like a bull.

I tried to get out of the way, but my muscles seemed to have frozen up in shock and my body wasn't moving fast enough. Demon smashed straight into me, sending me flying back down the hill to the water's edge. As I shakily got to my feet – gasping for breath – he charged again, the huge axe swinging from his hand.

This time, I had enough sense to dodge out of the way as he came at me. The axe whistled past me – a millimetre away from tearing into my shoulder. Before he could turn, I threw my net low, allowing it to tangle around his ankles. As he tried to take another step, he tripped, falling down the bank to until he managed to stop rolling. I followed him, hoping to finish him while he was still lying on the ground, but Demon was fast. He kicked the net off his feet and stood up, swinging the axe in my direction; his face was contorted in fury.

His next swing caught my leg, sending blood gushing out of the open cut. Before I lost my balance, I lunged forward and speared his arm. He howled in pain and immediately retaliated, hissing at me. I could feel the colour seeping from my skin as I lost more blood, already I was starting to feel slightly dizzy and my leg was uselessly numb.

My mind couldn't comprehend as someone as _huge_ as Demon could be so goddamn _fast_. I stumbled back a few steps as he attacked again; my heels splashed into the water – the cold temperature woke me up a bit and I had the sense to leap away from the coolness. If I was going to die, then I was going to be killed by Demon, _not_ eaten by fish. That would be too insulting.

"Ah!" he cried out as my trident struck his shoulder. The barbs stuck and I viciously yanked it out, tearing at the wounds even more.

His yelp of pain turned to a snarl as he tossed the axe to his other hand and came at me again, obviously trying to force me into the water. I just danced back across the shore line, picking up the discarded net on the way. Satisfied, I watched Demon grimace as he lifted the weapon once more, before lowering his arm slowly back down and throwing the axe to one side.

"What's the matter?" I taunted, making my way slowly back up the dune. "Is there something wrong with your arm?"

I knew that insulting him wasn't the right thing to do, but the slow blood loss made me lose concentration slightly. There wasn't any way I could stop the bleeding and so I had to do my best to ignore the throbbing, aching pain in my thigh.

Demon roared at my insult and ran like a bullet up the slope, pummelling into me before I could even get my trident up. I fell, sprawling, to the floor, with Demon's hands madly trying to close around my throat. Wildly, I punched my fist into his gut, and he momentarily slackened his grip – enough for me to roll out of his hands, kneeing upwards as I went.

I rolled to my knees, panting heavily, before getting to my feet. I had dropped my trident when I fell over, leaving me with the net – that I had wrapped around my wrist – and the short sword inside my robes that I had taken from Hiefer. I fished that out while Demon got to his feet, obviously winded from my punch. But the sword had been tangled in the many layers of cloth and I couldn't even get a good grip on the handle before Demon was crashing into me again, sending us both tumbling down the hill. My head hit the ground hard; the vibrations from the impact reverberating unpleasantly through my whole body. The point of the sword dug into my stomach and I felt a new cut opening up.

Neither of us even thought about stopping until we landed in the shallow water. The piranhas and leeches wasted no time, stinging and biting. The familiar throbbing pain that had sent me into a coma came back, opening the half-healed scars all over my body. I frantically beat at the creatures and waded away from the water, but Demon's hand shot out and dragged me back under.

He stood waist deep, ignoring the writhing creatures that coated every inch of his flesh, intent on keeping me in the water. I saw the large brown fins moving towards us silently and tried to get out of Demon's hold. He seemed immovable.

The muttated piranhas drew nearer and I could hear my heart thumping in my ears. My mind gave up the fight.

_This is it. This is the end._

I said a silent 'sorry' to Mags, my Dad and Ariel as my body struggled on. It refused to obey the commands of my head to stop fighting, and continued to try and get away from Demon. Survival instincts, I guessed. In a last ditch attempt, I scooped up handfuls of leeches and piranhas and pressed them into Demon's eyes.

He screamed and let go. From years of practice, I flung myself backwards, swimming with powerful strokes to the shore where I dragged myself up. My mind still hadn't quite caught up with the events, and I only vaguely registered Demon's pained screams as the mutts devoured him. All my energy had gone and the blood loss from my leg was giving me multiple visions. I moaned quietly as I pulled myself through the sand, until I was far enough away from the water. My trident was just an arm's distance away, and my hand closed around it for familiarity. The beating sun dried the water from my body as the twenty third cannon fired, and then there was quiet.

Trumpets blared – interrupting the momentary peace of the arena.

Blearily, I opened my eyes and sat up as the voice of Claudius Templesmith echoed into my ears.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present to you, the winner of the sixty fifth Hunger Games: from District 4, the _fabulous_ Finnick Odair!"

His voice faded out to be replaced by the cheers and screams from the Capitol audience. I managed to fix a smile to my face as a hovercraft appeared above me, and a single ladder dropped down. Hauling myself to my feet, I grabbed hold of the higher rungs and heaved myself up. As soon as I stood on the ladder – my trident still grasped in one hand – an immobilizing electric current washed over me, and I was pulled into the depths of the hovercraft.

The trapdoor closed underneath me as doctors swarmed, binding my wounds as they placed me on a stretcher and carried me through a maze of corridors. I was vaguely aware of a man with a camera following the procession, but my dizziness made it impossible for me to concentrate on more than one thing.

As a female doctor – unmarred by the normal Capitol fashions – bandaged my leg, she smiled up at me and patted my knee, saying "Congratulations."

It took me a minute to understand why she was congratulating me. I had convinced myself so thoroughly that I was going to die when I stood in the water that I hadn't realised I had won the Hunger Games and that I would never have to face another reaping.

It felt like my mouth pulled up into a smile as another needle sent me slowly drifting off to a sleep filled with mutts and screaming.

* * *

_Yaaay! Fishnick is out of the arena! 3 Finally!_

_And in response to my previous promise, congratulations to: mystic night92, Hahukum Konn, RueofDistrict11 and Aquinnah789 for guessing Finnick's mother's job!_

_And very well done to __**ksandfoss**__ who also correctly guessed what she died from - even though I didn't ask/hint of it in the last chapter. (For those that don't know: she died of an STD.)_

_Aaand while I'm thanking my reviewers, I might as well give a special mention to Hahukum Konn, RueofDistrict11, Aquinnah789 and pattyo123 for reviewing basically every chapter update :) It makes me happy when I see your reviews :D Also, to Alice, who basically tells me the plot :P_

_Next chapter (and it'll be a long one!) __**19th February**_


	16. AN

Guuuys! I have _terrible, devastating _news! :(

So basically my internet has broken, and may not be fixed for a while still (possibly up to a week :O)

So. My chapter may not be up on Saturday... If it's not – just remember it's not my failure, it's my stupid internet. And as to why this A/N may not make any sense is because I'm writing this at a friend's house and I need to be gone in a few minutes. Sorry. I will try and update if I can.

~Charlotte-LOVE-


	17. Victor

_This chapter is dedicated to the fabulous twins, Alice and Ellie. As much as she denies it – half of this story belongs to Alice for all the help she's given me – and Ellie leaves epic reviews (when she can be bothered to review)._

_The Hunger Games and its characters belong to Suzanne Collins._

_Enjoy :)_

_

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_

**Chapter Sixteen: Victor**

As I left the small room that I had been sleeping in, the first thing that registered in my mind was a small squeak coming from one end of the long corridor, followed by a blur of orange hugging me fiercely through sobs. I looked down in surprise to see Daphne clinging onto my chest as if I was going to disappear. During the time I was in the arena, she had dyed her hair ginger and appeared to have had her skin pigmented light blue. She looked ridiculous, but I had never been happier to hear her stupid chirping voice in my ear, so I hugged her back. That, of course, just made her cry harder and latch her arms around me even more firmly.

"Hey Daphne," I murmured, stroking her hair.

She took a step back and wiped her streaming eyes. "Finnick! I missed you so much; I was so worried when you passed out in the arena. I thought... I thought..." She burst into tears and hugged me hard again.

While I patted her absentmindedly on the back, the other members of my team gathered. Xenya hung back with Cade, but the rest of my prep team swarmed like wasps. Narla wrapped her arms around me as well, joining in with Daphne's crying. Sparroh and Surie both patted my head as if I was a dog, cooing over how well I did.

Mags leant casually on the wall, a slight smile on her face as she watched me try to console the Capitol citizens. No matter how many times I told them I was fine, they insisted on asking an extra three times, just to make sure. Eventually Cade and Xenya took pity on me and distracted the Prep team and Daphne by talking about preparations for my interview. Cade practically had to drag Daphne down the corridor, and her sobs were clearly audible even as the door closed behind them.

"Hi," I said to Mags.

She smiled and pushed herself off the wall, before steering me down the corridor to a large comfortable living room. I collapsed onto one of the many plush sofas as Mags sat down beside me and handed me a small bread roll. She watched me eat it before saying a word.

"Congratulations," she said as I swallowed the last bite. My stomach welcomed the food, but even that meagre meal seemed to fill me up.

"Finnick did well?" I teased gently.

"Finnick did very well." She handed me another roll which I forced down under her intense stare. Her eyes softened and her small smile faded from her lips. "How do you feel?"

I opened my mouth, prepared to put on a brave front, but the words wouldn't come out. My throat blocked up as I tried to say 'I'm fine' and all I could choke out was a strange coughing sound. Emotions I wasn't even aware of until that moment bubbled up in me, and my eyes burned with tears. I tried again to lie, but when I looked up into her eyes there was recognition. She was a Victor too: she knew the pain.

"All I think about is them," I whispered, closing my eyes. "The ones that I killed. Not being able to save Lian. Leaving Alys to the Career's mercy."

I was going to say more, but I was cut off by Mags pulling me into a hug. Not a Daphne hug, but a comforting, understanding hug. She knew what I was going through now, and she knew that no words could console me. The simple gesture made the unshed tears come pouring down my face as sobs wracked through my body. The full force of what I had done in the arena hit me like a ton of bricks – I hadn't had to face it there, I was too busy surviving, but in the real world with no distractions, I was left to mull about what I had done.

"How long do I have until the interviews?" I mumbled into her shirt.

I felt her arm move as she check the watch on the wrist. "About two hours, you slept for a long time. Your prep team will be coming to collect you soon, although I doubt there's going to be much they can do with you now."

Sniffing, I pulled away from her, wiping my eyes with my sleeves. I was still wearing the disgusting robes from the arena – and would be until my prep team dressed me in something more suitable for the viewing of the Games. The clothes felt horrible on my skin, another reminder of what I had done. However I refused to cry anymore, not in public, at least. After all, this was _my_ year, where I was what everyone was talking about – I should be enjoying it. I _would_ enjoy it.

"What do you mean, 'can't do much with me'?"

"Have you not looked in the mirror recently?" Mags asked.

When I shook my head, she sighed and led me over to an ornate mirror hanging above a huge, marble fireplace. I rolled my eyes at the Capitol's ridiculous indulgence and then concentrated on my reflection.

"What have they _done_ to me?" I asked.

"A full-body polish. And then something complicated with your hair – it keeps it clean and tangle-free permanently. It involved sewing new hair onto your scalp." I stared at her and she shrugged. "I didn't want to know anymore after that. But you're lucky with a full-body polish. Most tributes just get their arena wounds treated. They made you even more beautiful."

"Well, I'm not going to protest," I said, leaning closer to the mirror to get a good look at my flawless skin. "After all, they've been very restrained with me; my skin still appears to be the normal colour and I don't have a third eye on my forehead." My two, normal eyes were slightly puffy from crying, but apart from that I appeared fine.

My prep team burst into the room, Narla chirping away in her whistle-like voice, blocking out whatever the other two were saying. Even though we had already had our reunion, they seemed adamant on telling me just how much they had missed me and how I should never leave them again. Their devotion was rather adorable now.

Before they dragged me out the door, Mags gave me one last hug and whispered in my ear that she was proud of me. I almost burst into tears again, but with the trio of gossipers standing right next to me, I kept the emotions inside and just gave her a quick hug back.

"I can't wait to see what Xenya hass made for my interview," I said, purely as a conversation starter. It worked like a charm, and my prep team began babbling about how perfect it was and how much I was going to love it.

They pushed open the door to the preparation room and sat me down in the chair, circling like vultures before descending on every stray hair as if it personally insulted them. I sat back and listened with one ear to their rapid conversation. It ranged from their feelings while watching the Games, to their friend's feelings while watching the Games. Very rarely they asked a question that needed to be answered.

Xenya came in at one point to direct the prep team in what else they needed to do before disappearing again. The prep team all switched places as the door swung shut and began working on Xenya's suggestions.

"I was so worried when you got attacked by those piranhas, Finnick," Surie said seriously as she played with my hair. "Vieda and I were having a Hunger Games sleepover at the time, and she had to spend most of the night consoling me! I was crying so hard. Then, of course, I sponsored you a little more money so that they could send that medicine." She patted my shoulder. "You were such a clever tribute for recovering from that."

I didn't bother to mention that all the credit should be going to Lian and Genn – they would just brush it off and claim that my allies had nothing to do with it. I began to understand the twisted way in which the Capitol watched the Games – they picked a favourite as if choosing the best horse and then stuck with them until they won or died before moving on to the next popular tribute.

Sparroh – continuing from where Surie left off – told me all about how he and his family had an eating competition to raise even more money for me. "Mags told us about the trident, so we knew what we were raising money for," he said proudly. "I persuaded almost the _whole_ Captiol to donate some money to you."

"It was a very prett-"

Narla cut me off with a cry of indignation and clutched my shoulder possessively. "_I_ was the one who got Finnick-ie all his sponsors! Don't take the credit when it doesn't belong to you."

"You didn't do anything to help him," Sparroh retorted.

"I sold my favourite tankini – the one with the RSD effects that mimicked the patterns of the water and had the pulse-gold printed on the chest!" My brain started to hurt as I tried to understand that sentence. Not much good came of it – I had no idea what RSD effects were, or what a tankini was. I knew that pulse-gold was some kind of gold plating that changed shape, but nothing more than that.

"RSD?" Sparroh snorted. "Haven't you got anything more up-to-date? Anybody who is anybody is at least up to TME lighting now. And pulse-gold should just be _binned_ it's so ugly."

"Well you wouldn't know anything about what's in fashion, you have had a skin graft in _months_. It's disgusting."

"Guys, guys!" I butted in. My brain had broken with trying to keep up with unfamiliar words. "Let's stay friendly, after all, it's the first day we're all back together. And I really missed you guys."

Surie shot both of them disparaging looks as she gave me a sympathetic hug. Narla and Sparroh looked down at their feet, embarrassed and made an obvious effort to be extra nice to each other. By the time they were finished the three of them were as thick as thieves.

Xenya came in and shooed them away before dressing me quickly in my interview clothes. They were much simpler than I expected – just black trousers and a loose, green shirt that hid how thin I had become in the arena. He dusted a bit of powder onto my skin that he said was to give my skin a healthy 'shimmer'.

"I'm pretty sure normal, healthy skin doesn't sparkle," I said as I inspected myself in the mirror. I looked good. Simple, but good. Sometimes the tributes still looked haunted during their interviews, but I seemed to be going for the 'sane tribute' appearance.

"_Shimmer_," Xenya stressed, straightening the creases. "Sparkling was in fashion _years_ ago. Everyone now needs a shimmer, or you'll just look plain and boring. I even made your top shimmer slightly; you'll be the most fashionable thing in the Capitol tonight."

I stared at my simple ensemble. "Really? This doesn't look like the normal fashions you guys have."

He smiled mysteriously at me before pushing me towards the door. "There's another part to this. You'll get it before you go on." He winked at my bewildered face and added, "Have fun with it, Finnick. Show off a bit."

I realised as Mags led me to the set that Xenya had actually been nice to me. Obviously whatever problems he had had before, he had got over.

The post-Games recap was held on the same stage as the pre-Games interviews. Only this time, as there was just one of me being introduced to the Capitol, I was stood on a metal disc below the stage and then I would get raised up. Mags stood me on the disc and then disappeared to get the final part of my costume. I stood still, listening to the chatter of the Capitol above me and the soft background music that was playing while everyone took their seats.

Mags returned, clutching my trident from the arena in one hand. It had been cleaned and polished, but it was definitely the same one.

And she handed it to me she said, "Remember: be yourself. You may have won the Games, but you've got years ahead of you in the Capitol and you want to keep their popularity. Life is easy if the Capitol favours you, and at the moment they adore you. Don't suddenly change." She ruffled my hair and pecked me on the cheek before walking away.

I ran my hands down the trident while I waited, tracing the emerald wave patterns with a lazy finger. Above me, I heard Ceaser giving his traditional introduction and then the metal disk was rising. I barely had enough time to fix my smile to my face before I was live across the nation.

There were several female sighs as I came into view, posing ostentatiously with my trident, hand on hip and my chest stuck out. I realised then what Xenya meant when he said I would be the most fashionable person in the Capitol. The audience rose and fell in front of me – brandishing all sorts of tridents in the air. The richest residents sat at the front, waving exact replicas of the one in my hand. Other Capitol citizens jumped up and down waving neon coloured, eight pronged, jewel encrusted tridents.

Ceaser stood up and came over to shake my hand. He laughed as I poked him with the dull end of the trident, and pretended to be mortally wounded to amuse the audience. They laughed and then I was led to my seat. It was a big, gold throne and made comfortable with lots of fabric padding; that was good, seeing as I had to sit in it for around three hours.

"Glad to have you back Finnick," Ceaser said when we were both settled. He was camped on a much plainer chair, but the way he sprawled across it told me it was just as comfortable as mine.

I grinned as I relaxed into the padding. "I'm very happy to be back. I was dreaming of being here all through my Games."

"You're too kind, Finnick," Ceaser said bashfully.

"Well, you're all too easy to miss. Especially the wonderful audience, I don't know how I ever lived without you all!" I blew a kiss out to the audience who roared its approval.

Ceaser laughed and patted my knee. "I'll stop this before you make all the ladies feint and I'm sure you want to relive the moments that brought you here."

My enthusiastic answer had a false note to it, but the audience were screaming so loudly that it probably wasn't detectable. I loved the audience and the applause – but I didn't want to go through the horror that was still so fresh in my mind. I didn't want to see all the deaths again. However what I wanted wasn't taken into consideration and the lights of the stage dimmed as the seal appeared on the large screens places all around the set. I sat back and tried to forget that the person taking centre stage was me – it was some other tribute in some other Hunger Games.

It wasn't so bad at first; it was focused on the pre-Games and the tributes' back stories. Most was about me (seeing as I was the Victor) however the other important tributes got at least five minutes. The other Careers got close to ten each. When Alys took the centre role, I realised how little I knew about her. The girl I had befriended was just the female tribute from District 9 who knew how to use a sword. I never knew she had a trio of younger brothers and an elder sister who were all mourning her death right now. But then it moved on, pausing for a while on Hiefer before just flicking through the tributes from 11 and 12.

And then the recap got worse. The Games were shown in a chronological order, so it began with the opening scenes of the bloodbath. Every single bloody death was televised; paired with slow-motion effects and a painfully inappropriate soundtrack. The music could only be described as happy when I slit the twelve year old girl's throat, and the cameras enjoyed focusing on Bryd hacking off tributes' heads with my axe. I forced myself to watch every death, even when Jewel shot a crossbow bolt through Danty's head as my District partner was pinned to the ground, crying and calling out for her parents. In the corner of the screen, my face was a blank, emotionless mask.

Each death was then shown in detail with small bits of the arena thrown in to make it make sense. I watched the Careers wake up on the second morning to find me and as Jewel sobbed manically for a full five minutes at my loss. Bryd was the one who calmed her down, but she was filled with an inexplicable fury towards me – and created a plan to kill me. Then it cut away to show Lian and Genn nursing me back to health, using the pots of medicine that kept raining down on them.

The unexplained deaths in the arena were revealed to me as well. Alys was killed by the piranhas. She probably could have been saved, but the Careers didn't bother and simply stabbed her as she lay, screaming on the floor.

A few hours before I woke up, Cloud and Bryd got in a fight over food which resulted in Cloud's death. Demon got angry at her murder and took revenge on Bryd. Jewel didn't protest at her District partner's death, she was too busy using Alys' sword to cut off her hair.

There was a small break from the death after that, as the interviews with our friends and family back home were shown. Lian and Genn got messages from their parents of love. Their friends told the Capitol interviewers that the siblings were the nicest pair of kids in the whole District. Demon had a group of acquaintances just as fearsome as him. Jewel's were all beautiful, young girls who seemed replicas of each other. Millie – the girl from 3 that I killed – had a huge family; all seemed surprised, but proud, that she had got to the final ten.

My Dad said that I had always been a fighter and that I wouldn't be giving up easily. My friends just goofed around on the cameras, not saying much more than I was a 'great guy'. Camela, and several other girls, talked about how I had said that I loved them all just before I left. Ariel was just beautiful – sweet, naive and completely loveable. I could hear the audience sigh at the little thing on the screen who talked about what an amazing big brother I was.

And then we were shoved straight back into the arena – and the huge waves that flooded the place. I could feel my face draining of colour as I watched the final deaths. Especially the ones that involved me; they were all so violent.

Finally the seal appeared again and the anthem boomed out as the lights rose. Everyone stood as President Snow walked onto the stage with the Victor's crown on a plush, red cushion. I noticed, with a small smile, that the gold surface was embedded emerald wave patterns, just like my trident.

President Snow's face held no emotion has he placed the crown on my head but as he stepped away he gave me a small nod, before turning and waving at the audience. President Snow exited the stage and I lifted my arms in victory. I still felt ill from the three hour recap and it wasn't the thrill of victory that had me celebrating; it was the fact I was alive and would be at home in two days. The thought filled me with so much joy that I couldn't help smiling and laughing as Ceaser ended the show.

I barely had time to have a sip of water before Daphne was pushing me into a car that was headed for President Snow's mansion for the Victor's Banquet.

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_The next chapter: __**24th February**_

_My internet was restored today, so you get a chapter today! Woo! _

_THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH. Basically (for a reason unknown to me) Chapter 15 gave me 9 of the nicest reviews I have ever received. AND ALSO, WE HAVE REACHED 100 REVIEWS! Thank you to RueofDistrict11 for giving me the 100__th__ review... Umm... I don't have much to give you, so how about a cyber cookie? ;)_


	18. Victor's Banquet

_Reasons why this update was late:_

_I have homework. I (sadly) have a social life on Saturdays. I fail. I am lazy. I have a new addiction that is bigger than my Fishnick addiction and so I was doing stuff to do with that. I** really, really** fail._

_I promise it will not be late next weekend; I feel so bad for being unreliable. D:_

_The Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins._

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**Chapter Seventeen: Victor's Banquet**

"Finnick!" Isadora Yang fluttered over from the other side of the room with her sister, Sessadora, attached to her arm.

The sisters were considered to be the two most 'beautiful' women in the Capitol. They had been District 1 and District 2 escorts at the beginning of their careers, and their huge popularity with the Capitol meant they were offered several important jobs at home. Since then, they had launched their own fashion brand – named _j'aDora _– where one vest was more expensive than having your face implanted with diamonds. All of this was whispered in my ear by Daphne as the Dora Twins floated across to me. I smiled gratefully at her as I greeted the twins by name and they both swooned and congratulated me.

"Do you mind if we get a picture of you?" Sessadora asked, already handing her camera to the closest Avox.

"It would be an _honour_," I said as they snuggled up under my arms. Isadora grabbed my trident – which Daphne had ordered me to hold through the whole party – a posed with it. Sessadora immediately ordered the Avox to take another million photos, so the three of us could pose in different ways with the trident. Eventually they grew tired and kissed me on the cheek as a goodbye.

Mags appeared at my side once they were out of sight and wiped the lipstick smears off my face. "Enjoying your party?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

"Kill me now," I moaned and leaned against one of the many marble columns. The mansion itself was amazing. All the rooms I had seen were made out of marble and mahogany with wide, double doors connecting the rooms. Each doorway had the name of the room printed above it in an old, unused language that Mags informed me was Latin.

"Only another hour. Just keep charming the Capitol." She hugged me and I was immediately swamped by my new fans.

The Head Gamemaker for my Games, Alfraydo Lilipet, spent a lot of time talking to me about the design on the arena. I tried to be as complimentary as I could, even though he obviously thought himself a genius for designing such horrible (he called them 'interesting') ways for kids to die. As the conversation moved onto the mutated piranhas, all I could think about was watching them skin Millie and Genn. None of this seemed to register in Lilipet's mind as he babbled on about how next year's arena was going to be even more challenging. He left once he had got a picture with me and my trident.

Around the room were tables filled with food; when I wasn't being forced to schmooze with some politician, Daphne and I tested all of the delicacies that the Capitol offered. Mags occasionally joined us, but her older Capitol friends kept dragging her away. I refused to drink any of the blue liquid served in shot glasses that made the drinker vomit up their food; that was just a step too far. Instead, I was stuck with snacking on small mouthfuls just to enjoy the tastes.

The party began winding down three o'clock in the morning when Mags made herself extremely unpopular by dragging me away from all my admirers.

"I'm sorry," I called over my shoulder, "But I need to be awake for my interview tomorrow! Ceaser might be a bit offended if I fell asleep while he was trying to ask me questions."

They all laughed and waved me away. I noticed Surie and Narla were slumped in a corner, giggling at all the people who walked past. Surie gave me a bleary wink as I stumbled out of the door. The cool outside air shocked me slightly, and brought me to my senses.

It was then that I realised that we weren't walking back to the cars – instead we were headed deeper into President Snow's mansion. We crossed a small outdoor courtyard, and then re-entered the dark corridors. There was one silent Avox hurrying down the hall, but apart from that, we were alone.

"What are we doing?" I whispered to Mags.

She answered in an equally low voice. "The President wanted to speak with you."

I glanced up in surprise. She wasn't looking at me – instead her eyes were focused straight ahead. It was hardly the most comforting thing.

"This is normal, right? I mean, do all of the Victor's meet him after the party?"

Her eyes flickered to me face, then away again. She spoke even softer than before. "No. It's not normal."

She opened a door and pushed me through first, into a lit corridor filled with the President's staff rushing around. Most were Avox, and so all the tasks were done with an eerie silence, however there were a few Capitol staff in executive grey suits who babbled loudly at each other as if trying to fill the unnatural quiet.

A man caught sight of me and motioned towards the grand mahogany door. He knocked politely at a quiet 'enter' slithered through the door. The Avox stuck his head around the door and then motioned for me to go in.

Mags squeezed my hand. "I'll be waiting here for you."

President Snow sat behind his desk. White roses covered every available surface. The odour that radiated through the room was enough to make anyone gag.

He stood politely as I entered and smiled warmly at me.

"Finnick," he said, shaking my hand. "Thank you for coming to see me at such short notice."

His grasp was firm and uncompromising. "It's no problem, sir."

"You're very polite, but I know that you would rather be in your bed. However, unfortunately, this is a matter of some importance." His gaze fell on me and his polite, friendly manner disappeared; replaced by a cool, calculating gaze.

I slowly sat in one of the chairs positioned in front of his desk. My whole body was tensed, ready for the slightest sign to bolt. I tried to convince myself that it was just leftover adrenaline from the Hunger Games, but a small part of me knew that I had a reason to be scared, sitting in front of the most powerful man in Panem.

"Do you have any idea why you're here Finnick? Have your mentors mentioned anything?"

I shook my head. "No, Sir, nothing."

"I'll start from the beginning then." He adjusted the rose on his lapel. I wondered why he wore them – the President of Panem having a liking for white roses just seemed too surreal. "The Capitol adores the Hunger Games. I'm, of course, aware that the most of the Districts hate us for it – aside from the 'Career' Districts. But I'm not a man of the Districts, I'm a Capitol citizen and I care for the welfare of my people. Without me, the Games would fall and so would the Capitol. So, as you can understand, it's vital that I stay in power. However, as in any nation throughout history, there are ambitious people who think they can do my job better than me. They can't, but that doesn't stop them trying. Are you following so far?"

"Yes, Sir. You don't want to be replaced."

"That's pretty much it, yes. And politics is a career path where enemies are more common than friends, and so I have to work hard to make allies."

He paused, and I took it as a signal that I could interrupt.

"Sir, I understand what you're saying, but I don't get why this concerns me. I'm not planning to overthrow you or anything like that."

"No, no, I'm definitely not worried about that." He folded his hands around one another. "To stay in favour with the Capitol, I need alliances with the most influential Capitolites. Not the boring politicians, but the fashion designers – such as the Dora Twins – and top surgeons, take Amaryllis Perrone, for example. These are the people who set the trends. If they support me, then the rest of the city supports me. But it's hard to make these friends – they're just as slippery and clever as me, otherwise they would get nowhere – and so I have to focus on the common ground between us. Can you guess what that is?"

"No, sir."

"The _Games_, Finnick. The Hunger Games are immensely popular in the Capitol and, as I've already said, they're the key to my success. My people become attached to the tributes during the Hunger Games – that's why they sponsor you. I know that in the Districts you think that they don't care about twenty three children being slaughtered, but they do. I've seen my advisers – grown men – cry as they watch their favourite tribute being disembowelled by an angry muttation. If these kinds of connections are forged within a week, what do you think the relationships are like between Victors and the city? You come back every year to mentor, and that involves a lot of private meetings and parties. Everyone loves the Victors."

"I'm still not sure how I can help, Sir, except for speaking in your favour." _Which I will do anyway, because people who disagree with Snow tend to end up dead._

He continued on in his cryptic way, completely ignoring my comment. "You're already immensely popular, even for a Victor. It's your looks, definitely, and your personality. You spoke directly to the Capitol during your interviews; you complimented them and socialised with them at tonight's banquet. And not just any old Capitol citizen – you got kisses from the Dora Twins, who promised each other to stay chaste until they had both found a man to share; I saw you dancing closely with Shienah Mycroft, who is close friends with my main enemy. As you left the party, there was a large group of swooning girls who would sell their souls for another chat with Finnick Odair. Imagine what they would do for a _night_ with Finnick Odair."

It took a second for what he had just said to sink in. At first, I was just numb with shock. The words were going around in my head, but I couldn't decipher any meaning for them. They were just made up syllables. But then the meaning hit me like a ton of bricks.

"You want me to be a _prostitute_?" I spluttered, all my manners jumping out of the window.

Snow didn't even seem embarrassed. "Yes, I suppose."

"And you expect me to just agree with you? Go along with what you're saying?"

A small smile appeared on his lips. "You don't really have a choice."

"Well unless you personally stand in the room with me and whatever slut I'm meant to be sleeping with and poke me in the back with a gun you can't really make me do anything."

"It wouldn't be required of you until after your birthday. Even my people would have a few qualms about relationships with fourteen year olds."

"But fifteen is just _fine_, is it?" I said sarcastically.

He either didn't understand the humour or ignored it. "Yes, fifteen is the legal age of consent here in the Capitol."

"I refuse," I snapped. "I don't care if I'm fifteen, sixteen or a hundred, I'm not doing it."

"So that's a 'no' then?"

"Hell yes, that's a no!"

"Very well. Go, now. Get some rest before your interview tomorrow."

Unnerved by his calm, I left the room as quickly as possible. When I turned to shut the door, I thought I saw a hint of a smile playing on his mouth, but it was dark and I couldn't be sure.

Mags was at my side the minute the door closed but she refrained from asking any questions until we were back inside the training centre. She sat me down in the living room on one of the many couches. It was silent, apart from Cade's snoring drifting down the corridor.

"What did he want?" she asked.

I tried to find a nice way of phrasing it, but nothing came to mind. "He wanted sell me to the Capitol girls so that they would favour his government.

Mags didn't look surprised. "I'm sorry, Finnick. I was going to warn you, but I never thought he would mention it so early. Most of the time he waits a year or so before saying that."

"This has happened to others?"

"It happens to pretty much everyone who's good looking or popular. I was forced to do it for a few years when I was younger, but then newer, healthier Victors came along and I was happily dropped."

"You actually did it?" I asked, shocked.

"Of course, I didn't get a choice. No one does..."

I blinked. "But... I refused. And he didn't even get angry, he just told me to leave."

Mags' expression was horrified as she ordered me to recount the whole conversation. Once I got to the part about my age, she relaxed slightly. By the end of it, she was nodding to herself as if something suddenly made sense.

"As Snow said, you're still fourteen. He's probably going to spend the rest of the year up until your birthday persuading you. But, Finnick, the next time he offers – you have to say yes. Don't refuse the President twice, it wouldn't end well."

The clock above the fireplace chimed, and Mags looked at it, surprised at how early it was. Immediately, I was ordered to bed, where I gratefully fell onto the soft mattress and slept dreamlessly.

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_I __**love**__ writing about the Capitol and I'm very sad that Fishnick has to leave and go home. This story may wind up focusing a bit more on the Capitol than his District life, just because I want to explore all of the strange traditions that they have. But I will, of course, have bits of his District life thrown in too._

_However I have good news! From Chapter 18 onwards, I will have a beta! This means that you won't have to sit through my awful editing skills. Thank you so much RueofDistrict11 for volunteering :)_


	19. Returning

_Thank you so much to RueofDistrict 11 for volunteering to beta N&T because – let's face it – I __**really**__ needed one. ;)_

_As usual, THG belong to Suzanne Collins._

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**Chapter Eighteen: Returning**

The final interview was much more relaxed than the first. It took an hour, but it was held in a private room with only a dozen seats for the richest Capitol citizens. Caesar and I were seated on informal armchairs, though my crown had been shoved on my head again.

It was easy, in the warm room with Caesar and me joking around, to forget about the conversation I had last night. But when the cameras stopped rolling for a break and I peeked a glance at the audience, I automatically wondered which of the women would pay for sex. The line of thought made me shiver in disgust, so I turned back to Caesar while someone behind the cameras counted down from three.

"So, Finnick," Caesar said. "You're going home after this interview. How are you feeling about that?"

"Happy, of course. I get to see my little Ariel again, and my dad will probably buy one of the biggest cakes to celebrate."

"Cake _is_ always a good thing; but aren't you going to miss us at all?"

I rushed to console him as he pretended to cry into his hands. "Of course! But I'll be back for the Victory Tour, so I'll get to meet up with you all again."

"But that's far too long! Us Capitolites can't live without a daily dose of Finnick." He winked at me and I couldn't help but laugh.

"You've got to give me some time to recuperate, Cease. And I'll need to practice my talent a little bit for the Victory Tour; otherwise I'll have nothing to show you."

"Any ideas on your talent yet?"

I shook my head. "Obviously fishing is a bit boring coming from a District Four champion, and I won't stand for that. I guess Mags will have to work extra hard to find something that I can excel at in time for the tour."

"She won't even need to lift a finger," Cease joked. "You seem to excel at everything you do."

"If you tasted my attempts at cooking, you wouldn't be saying that."

Cease leaned in and stage-whispered, "Last time I baked a cake, I almost blew up the house."

I leant back into my chair, chuckling. "I hope the time between now and the tour flies, Cease – I just love our little chats."

"Well, I certainly can't wait to see you again. But, sadly, our time is up, and so we're going to have to say goodbye to Finnick Odair, victor of the Sixty-fifth Hunger Games. We'll see you again in six months for the Victory Tour!"

With a smile and wave from both of us, the cameras stopped recording and everyone relaxed. Cease shook my hand and wished me luck before I was taken back to the Training Center to gather up my meager belongings.

It seemed like no time at all until we were sitting in the train, heading back to District Four. Daphne was staying in the Capitol as her duties were done until the winter, but she accompanied us to the station and tearfully hugged me goodbye in front of the mass of paparazzi that had gathered to witness my last moments in the city. I gave them one last wave as I hopped on to the grey train. Then I started walking across the plush carpeted floor to the room where I had first watched the Reapings with Daphne, Mags, Cade and Danty. Without the bubbly escort- and with only the memory of the female tribute- we were silent as the train began to roll back towards District Four.

Even though we were on our way home, the Capitol outdid themselves with the standard of food we were served. Someone had obviously gone to a lot of effort to make enough platefuls to cover the table with all sorts of delicacies. I ate everything that was put in front of me, mainly in search of something to keep me entertained. Just sitting in silence was boring and gave me a lot of time to think, something that I wasn't keen on doing with Snow's request still fresh in my mind.

As the train steamed through the blank countryside, I became more and more restless. Unable to sit still like Mags and Cade, I spent the last hour pacing in front of the window, all the while staring out at the blackness, waiting to see the lights of District Four. I missed everything about my home- the sea, the buildings, the people... Especially the people.

I tried to imagine what it had to be like for the District Twelve victors, who had to sit on the train for _days_. I wouldn't be able to stand that sort of build up; I could barely stand a few _hours_ of build up.

I whooped as the train began passing the first lights of District Four. I pushed down my window and listened to the sounds of the night. It was almost midnight and nearly everyone was inside, so it was silent apart from the quiet waves in the distance. I would have spent the remainder of the journey with my head stuck out into the cool air, but Mags grabbed the back of my shirt and hauled me back in, chastising my actions as she sorted out my windblown hair.

"You still need to be gorgeous here, Finnick," she reminded me as the train slowed to a stop. "The Capitol newspapers need the happy ending to your story. If you can, hug someone and say how great it is to be back or something."

The doors automatically opened as the train halted, and the flashing of camera bulbs momentarily blinded me. When my eyes had adjusted, I hopped out on to the small platform. It was crammed with reporters who were all taking pictures and yelling questions at me. I just smiled and waved at them all, unable to answer any of the slurred, Capitol accents. But my friendliness was enough for them, it seemed, and they contented themselves with pictures.

Mixed in with the reporters were vague friends and family. My great-uncle shook my hand as I passed him and congratulated me. I shouted thank you to him before Mags and Cade elbowed a path through the crowd. They seemed used to the mob. I stopped as I caught sight of the most important things in my life.

"Dad! Ariel!" I cried as I saw her dirty blonde hair bobbing in the crowd.

"Finnick!" she yelled back, her little hands pushing people out of the way as she tried in vain to reach me.

I was much more effective as I shoved people away from me until I was close enough to pick up the small child and swing her around, clutching her to me. I felt tears trickling down my cheeks as her arms wrapped around my neck and her face pressed into my chest. I didn't have to pretend to be happy that I was home as Ariel tightened her arms around me.

"I love you, Ariel; I've missed you so much."

Dad enveloped both of us in a hug and I heard the cameras clicking feverishly around us. Mags eventually drew us out of the crowd and onto the silent District Four streets. I carried Ariel in my arms as she rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes sleepily. I familiarized myself with the district while Mags and my Dad talked quietly- the crazy Capitol life had really messed up my senses, and the quiet unnerved me. However, lights shone out of a few windows, and I saw faces press up against the glass as we passed.

Ariel mumbled something.

"What did you say?" I asked.

She lifted her head up and repeated, "I was afraid you weren't going to come back."

I kissed her forehead. "I would never leave you and Dad alone. Besides, I was never going to die. I'm too wonderful for that."

Ariel kicked me gently but giggled and threw her arms around my neck. "I missed you, Finnick. Don't go away again."

"I won't," I promised as we turned up the road that led to the Victor's Village.

I had never been there in my life. The only people who had were the victors and their cleaning staff. It was in the most beautiful part of the district. Arranged in a square around a small, beautifully kept field, were twenty big houses. Each was painted white with valuable shells embedded around the door and window frames. My new house was next to Mags', and so she showed us where the key was hidden before kissing me on the cheek and saying goodnight.

The inside of the house was just as pretty as the outside, though I didn't bother to inspect the interior decorating. I went straight to the back windows to see what our garden was like. I sighed in relief as I saw green grass giving way to soft, white sand and then to a deep, blue sea. I would still be able to go for a morning swim without having to traipse down to the public swimming area.

"We have a beach!" I yelled. The sound of Ariel and Dad's cheers followed.

They were in the living room, staring at the huge television screen. It was mounted on the wall with speakers surrounding it. The remote had so many buttons with indecipherable labels on them that none of us could work out how to even turn it on.

There were six bedrooms altogether. But we only got as far as the first one before all three of us were curled around each other on the softest mattress I had ever felt, fast asleep.

Just before I blacked out into unconsciousness, I murmured, "I love you." I felt my Dad squeeze my hand in response and Ariel snuggled closer to me. I fell asleep, the happiest I had ever been.

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_Woo! Fishnick's back in his District with no Games or scary Snow! But how long will it stay like that? *ominous music plays*_

_And hurrah for actually updating on time this week. :D_

_Reviews = love._

_Next update: __**11/12**__**th**__** March**_


	20. Guilt

_I've finally started writing this again! Woo! Go me! :D_

_This chapter is quite angsty, but don't worry – the next one is just happiness/silliness from Fishnick and his friends._

_THG still belong to Suzanne Collins._

_Thanks to my wonderful beta for getting this back to me on such short notice :P_

_As always, reviews are greatly appreciated as are favourites and alerts._

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**Chapter Nineteen: Guilt**

"Finnick, it's too early," Ariel groaned as I poked her to wake her up.

"It's half past three! Get up, lazy lump. We're going fishing." I stole the covers off her and skipped out of her room, with the duvet bunched up in my arms.

Dad was already up- making a late lunch in the kitchen. I swallowed down my sandwich in one gulp and went to wait on the beach. Dad had obviously brought our rowing boat over from our old house. The sight of the little boat bobbing up and down on the small waves made me laugh so much that Dad thought I was having a fit. I calmed down enough to explain to him that I was just relieved that I was home; after all, I thought I'd never see it again.

Ariel wandered down from the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes with one hand and holding a piece of bread in the other. She hopped into the moored boat and finished her bread before pulling my old trident out from underneath the seat.

"They sent us your new one. If you want, I'll go get it for you."

"No," I reassured her as I waded into the water. "I love my old trident."

Dad joined Ariel in the boat and cast it off. They rowed the boat slowly through the calm water as I swam next to them. I had missed swimming more than I thought possible. There was a steady stream of conversation as we moved out into the deeper water. Ariel refused to let a silence fall and chattered nonstop about everything that had happened while I was away.

"All the girls at school made shirts with your name on them," she giggled. "And Camela has convinced nearly everyone that you kissed her before leaving." My groan made her laugh even harder- I had forgotten about Camela and the rest of my fan club.

The house was just in sight when we stopped moving. I floated on my back in the water while Ariel and Dad set up the appropriate fishing gear. I enjoyed the quiet of the sea and the refreshing coolness of the water against my skin. I clambered into the boat reluctantly when Ariel prodded me with the end of my trident.

We took our positions as we had on the day of my Reaping and so many times before that. I remembered that happy morning with a smile as I hefted my trident in my hand, raising it slightly so that it pointed into the water. It felt the same as my gift in the arena- though it was obviously made of much poorer materials. A flicker or movement under the water sent me lunging towards the surface, but as the trident connected with the fish a different picture sprung into my mind.

Millie was lying under me, struggling to free herself from the confines of the net. My golden trident was breaking her spine, then her skull, with the knowledge that I was about to end her life forever.

I recoiled from the edge of the boat, dropping my trident into the sea, but the memories didn't go away. I was back at the Cornucopia, slitting Zoe's throat. She was twelve. The boy from District Eight lay screaming in pain behind me as his District partner cried over him. Genn's tortured whispers as life seeped out of her mauled body. They were all deaths I could have stopped, but I didn't. I helped them all _die._

"No," I moaned, my head dropping into my hands. "I didn't have a choice."

I tried to comfort myself with the memories of why I killed them. Demon was standing in the water. He was probably crazy at that point- bloodthirsty Careers usually lost all sense of right and wrong in the arena... Demon would have taken it a step further. He may not have realized that he was about to be eaten until it happened. Jewel's enraged snarl as she tried to kill me at the feast. For all I knew she was starving and wanted to go home to her parents.

They were kids wanting to be at home with their families. They were like me: alone.

I should have died with them. There was nothing that set me apart from them, nothing that made me special. I wasn't a particularly better fighter and I was terrible at staying hidden. There were other's that deserved it more than me. I should be dead.

I covered my face with my hands, but all I could think about was their deaths. My hands covered in their blood as I destroyed them without thinking twice about it. What was the point in being a Victor when all you got was pain? I blocked out the world around me – uncaring of what it must have looked like to my family – and concentrated on anything I could do to make it better. The world around me faded as I searched desperately in my mind for one good thing that had come of my victory, but nothing presented itself to me.

"Finnick," a voice murmured right into my ear. "Come on, snap out of it. You're scaring Ariel."

"But it's my fault," I whispered.

Someone gently pushed my hands away from face before enveloping me in a hug. I buried my head in their shoulder, the sweet scent of perfume registering in my mind.

"You didn't have a choice. It was either you or them, and I'm very glad it was you. So many people need you here, Finnick, especially Ariel. Were you just going to leave Ariel on her own, without her big brother to protect her? She would have to had to face the Reapings without you. Everyone in this district is happy you came back."

I raised my head slowly. I hadn't realized that I was crying, but my cheeks were wet with tears. We were on the beach outside my new house. Mags' arms were wrapped around me in a hug as she tried to console me. Dad and Ariel were both kneeling in the sand next to us, staring at me with worry.

"Are you okay now?" Mags asked, wiping the tears away.

I sniffed and nodded shakily. I felt completely exhausted, though I had only woken up a few hours ago. My whole body was quivering like a leaf and I could feel unshed tears welling up behind my eyes.

"I was killing them again," I whispered. "And I had to watch them all die."

"I know," she soothed. "Everyone has the memories and the nightmares. You can't escape from them, especially not for the first few days." She kissed my forehead gently before releasing me from her hug. "After a year or two, the flashbacks will stop; I promise."

Ariel touched my arm to get my attention. She was obviously terrified by my outburst, so I opened my arms and pulled her close to me. Her solid presence took my head firmly out of the nightmares, and back into District Four. Slowly, the tremors left my body.

"I'm okay now," I said, taking deep breaths to steady myself. "Sorry about that."

Dad squeezed my shoulder sympathetically. "Don't be sorry, Finnick. We should have thought to take it slow. Let's wait until you're more comfortable at home before we go fishing again."

I shook my head- I still wanted to go fishing, but maybe not with a trident. Instead of arguing, I settled for the next thing of my mind: food.

"Can I have something to eat? I'm starving."

Just like that, the serious atmosphere disappeared and Dad was inviting Mags over for dinner. Ariel climbed out of my hug and pulled me to my feet, keeping hold of my hand as we walked into the spacious house. She didn't let go until Dad asked her to get some food from the fridge. While she did that, I began looking through the cupboards to see what things the Capitol had provided us with.

"What's this?" I asked, pulling a blunt knife thing out of a drawer.

"A can opener, Finnick. That's why it says 'Can Opener' on the side," Mags answered.

I inspected the handle to see the name printed on in small white letters. After checking the other utensils in the cupboards, I discovered that the Capitol had annotated everything in the kitchen.

"Why did they label the spoons? Do they seriously think that people don't know what spoons are in District Four?"

"You didn't know what a can opener was," Dad said, not looking up from the frying pan filled with fish. "They're probably just making sure that victors like you don't starve because they can't work out how to eat a bowl of cereal."

"I'm going to be mature and ignore your comment," I said, putting the spoon back in to the drawer.

Ariel was looking for plates, so I just sat down next to Mags at the table in the corner of the kitchen. There was also a big dining room but it seemed too formal for a small meal.

"Are you still feeling okay?" Mags asked quietly as Ariel danced around the kitchen, using a silver fork as a fairy wand.

I nodded slowly. "I think so. I feel fine now... But they're going to come back, aren't they? The flashbacks?"

"You can't escape the memories, but I'll show you some ways to keep your mind on other things. And I'll introduce you to the other victors. We'll eventually be able to find something that suits you."

"The other Victors?"

As a general District Four rule, the victors didn't leave the richer areas. They were so removed from normal district life that they reached a celebrity status amongst the average people, and things like autographs and unique photos sold for a lot at auctions. There were always Peacekeepers posted at the mouth of the road leading up to the Victor's Village to deter obsessed fans stalking their favorites. Apart from Mags and Cade, I had never seen one except on television.

"Don't sound so scared – they're nice and they do know what you're going through. Well, except Curt and Melanie who never seemed to care about what they had done." Curt and Melanie were infamous. They were Careers who had won consecutively to each other and both had been ruthless and bloodthirsty. "However, there's no point thinking about them- they basically never leave their houses and when they do, they think that everyone else is far beneath them."

She stopped talking as Dad walked over with plates of fried fish. He had garnished each one with a strange green fruit that I had seen in the Capitol. Mags saw me looking and said, "It's lime. It goes great with fish; try it."

As it turned out, lime did taste amazing with the fish. My Dad rarely cooked because he found it boring but when he did, he produced amazing dishes. I ate until I was sure I couldn't eat anymore - which involved stealing half of Ariel's plate – and then sat back, satisfied.

"You could be a chef in the Capitol, Dad. That was amazing."

"Was the Capitol food as good as it's made out to be, then?" he asked.

I sighed dreamily. "You have _no_ idea... It's beauty on a plate. You definitely need to try it sometime in your life. If I hadn't been in the Games I might have actually enjoyed my time at the Capitol." My voice dropped suddenly at the end, as I remembered my final days in the Capitol and President Snow's meeting. If any of them noticed, though, they ignored it.

"Tomorrow's Monday," Ariel said in the silence that followed.

"Work," Dad said, stretching.

"School, Finnick," Mags added with a smile.

I groaned at the unwelcome memory. Though I was free from the horror of the reaping, I still had to go to school like the rest of the population. The thought of that mundane activity almost made me cry– I had lived through the Hunger Games, and yet I still had to sit through lessons about how fish breathe underwater. Suddenly my life seemed rather pointless– after all, how was I going to spend the next years of my life when I had everything I wanted and never needed to work?

"Do I have to go?"

"Yes," Mags answered before my Dad could say anything. "Otherwise you will die of boredom within a month. Being a Victor, for most of the year, is dreadfully boring- that's why some of Career victors welcome the Hunger Games like the Capitol does; it's not because they're evil, but because we have nothing else to do."

"Cheerful," I muttered to Ariel, who hid her grin as Mags looked disapprovingly at us.

"Thank you very much for dinner," Mags said, standing. "But it's getting late and I should probably go home soon."

I glanced at the clock and then did a double take. "How is it eight? We only went fishing at three!"

Dad patted my shoulder condescendingly as he stood up too. "That's the funny thing about time, son, it just keeps on going. And I'll walk with you, Mags, I want to thank you for everything you did."

There was nothing polite or false in Mags' thanks- she sounded genuinely happy that Dad was paying her attention. She gave Ariel and me hugs before allowing Dad to lead her to the front door. Ariel and I cleared the plates into the dishwasher in silence until we heard the door shut.

"Do you think Dad and Mags will get married?" Ariel asked with all the innocence of a nine year old.

"It would be _weird_," I said, pressing a button helpfully labeled 'on'.

"Don't you want Mags to be your mum? I wouldn't mind; she seems really nice."

"Mags would make a great mother, but it would be strange having another person in our family. After all, we're the three musketeers, aren't we?"

Ariel nodded seriously but was cut off from answering by a huge yawn.

"Bed time?" I asked, holding out my hand to her. She took it and nodded, allowing me to lead her up to one of the many bedrooms. We hadn't decided who was going in which one but Ariel automatically opened the door to the room we had all slept in last night. I tucked her into the giant double bed and snuck out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

I had planned to go downstairs and stay up a little longer but as I stood on the landing, sleep seemed to entice me and I found myself stripping off my clothes and climbing under the clean white sheets. I was fast asleep within minutes, but my dreams were far from peaceful.

Most of them featured the arena in some way. There were memories, interwoven with nightmares, creating a dark, twisted reality inside my head that seemed inescapable.

In one, the piranhas were devouring me again. The pain of being eaten by leeches was dragged up to the forefront of my mind and my whole body itched and burned as I tried, in vain, to flick all of the creatures away. But every time a leech died, a bigger one would appear in its place, intensifying the agony.

In another, I watched as Ariel was called up beside me in the Reaping. I tried to protest and tell everyone that she was too young, but nobody listened. She trained hard but I still watched Jewel send an arrow flying into her head and through the other side. I just had to time to hold in her my arms before the whole scene shifted. Instead of Ariel, Demon lay grinning up at me. A piranha's fangs had replaced his teeth and he sat up suddenly, the powerful jaws closing across my face.

I woke with a jolt. My fingernails were scraping against my face, mimicking the action of Demon in my dream. It was dark outside, the moon still high in the black sky. With a relieved sigh, I pulled the covers up to my chin and drifted back into an uneasy sleep.

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_Next chapter: __**19/20th March**_

___Please __review? :D_

_Yes, I think that Mags and Finnick's Dad would make an adorable couple. :P_

_Next chapter is happier and has some Finnick humour in it and you__ get to meet his school friends, because, at the end of the day, Finnick's just a fourteen year old boy. And they can be hilarious._


	21. School

_This chapter is long for me :D And I hope you like the length, because my new target to write decently sized chapters. And don't get used to the happiness in this – it won't last. :|_

_As always, THG belong to Suzanne Collins._

_Thank you so much for all of your reviews – they really made me smile :D_

_

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**Chapter Twenty: School**

"What are you doing?" Ariel asked from the front door. It was ajar and bright light spilled through into the large hallway.

"Just making sure I'm presentable," I said while running my hand through my hair. There was a large mirror in the hall that I was busy taking full advantage of. I looked at myself critically, trying to find something out of place. The bottle green school jacket was as disgusting as ever but, as always, I was managing to pull it off. "Ariel, what am I?"

"I don't know…"

"Gorgeous," I stated simply, winking at my reflection. "And late. Come on, let's go."

Mags waved at us through the front window of her house as we passed. The rest of the Victor's Village was quiet – most of the residents had no need to get up until late in the afternoon. As Mags had said, there's not much to do when you don't need anything. The day was shaping up to be pleasantly warm; there were no clouds to obscure the sun's gentle rays as Ariel and I hurried to school.

There were only two in District 4 – one for the poor kids, the District Compulsory, and one for the rich kids, District High. Ariel and I had attended the Compulsory for a few miserable years until Dad managed to scrape together enough money to transfer us. Of course, neither school had a choice on which students were accepted. School was mandatory, and if a child asked for a place, the Capitol said that they had to be given one. But the High had so many influential parents that they managed to bypass this and so only the better off inhabitants were allowed in.

Although the Victor's Village was close to everything, we still had to walk through the centre of District 4. Unlike our new home, the place was bustling with people on their way to work and school. Stalls were being set up in the market and the early morning deliveries of fish were already piling up next to shops. Everyone stopped to smile or wave as I passed though they kept a polite distance.

School was completely different. Ariel was running over to her friends as soon as we got through the gate but my path was immediately blocked by a large group of screaming girls hugging me and yelling incomprehensible things in my ear.

Linne, one of my friend's sisters, wrapped her arms around me so tightly I could barely breathe and got her friend to take a picture while screaming in my ear, "_I love you, Finnick!_" so loudly I was sure I was going to go deaf.

I noticed most of them were wearing blue scarves and jackets with my name embroidered on in gold. Camela – who threw girls aside to make a path – even had a little trident embellished above my name. She kissed my cheek as the other girls threw jealous glances at her. I remembered what Ariel had said about everyone believing the rumor I'd kissed her before I left for the arena.

"Finnick!" she trilled as my fans started departing, "I'm so glad you're back! Not that I didn't expect you back, of course, I knew that you would win."

"Hi, Camela," I said rather weakly. "I like your scarf."

"I _knew_ you would! All of your idiotic friends said that you would think it was too over the top, but I said that I knew you better and knew that you would love it."

"It _is_ summer, though. You must be hot…"

Her eyes widened and her whole body froze. I blinked, not completely sure what was going on until she clapped her hands together in manic glee and sprinted across the courtyard over to a group of her friends, screaming loudly, "Finnick Odair just called me hot! _Me_!"

My friends – who were standing to one side while they waited for my new fan club to depart – were a mixture of bemused and entertained. As Camela disappeared inside – still shrieking – they made their way over and congratulated me in a much more low-key way.

"So go on – tell me how dreadful your life has been while I've been away," I said. "You're obviously delighted to have me back in your midst."

"It's actually rather depressing," Wade sighed. "I was enjoying the peace and quiet."

"And girls actually looked at us," Grover mourned. "I'll miss that."

"But it's all worth it to have me back! I can see it in your eyes."

The piercing noise of the bell interrupted our conversation – the signal that the first lesson was starting. Everyone else hurried into the drab grey building but I wasn't particularly bothered about being late – after all, I had lived through the Hunger Games, a teacher glaring at me didn't seem particularly life threatening.

As I was one of the youngest in our group, I split from Wade and Grover at the door, walking slowly Relic down the deserted corridors. Along with everyone else in the school, my first lesson was History. It was more of a lecture about why the Capitol was great and we were terrible but it basically meant I had an hour of sleeping in the morning.

"Endrich. Odair," a cool voice said as Relic pushed open the door. "You're three minutes late."

"Sorry, Miss." Relic bowed his head and hurried to his chair. I muttered an apology as well, but sauntered to my desk as if I had all the time in the world. I could feel Miss Roche – a withered old lady who should have died several decades ago – glaring at my back, and I couldn't help giving her a patronizing smile as I slid into my chair.

"Seeing as you walked into my lesson late, Mr. Odair, I wonder if you could tell me the second language of Panem?"

"We don't have one, Miss," I pointed out.

"It's not widely spoken, but a lot of scripts are written in this language. But I doubt you will know. You see, Odair, just winning the Games doesn't mean you have no use with school, you still need to pay atten-"

"It's Latin."

"What?"

"The answer. The second language of Panem is Latin."

The smug smile that she was wearing fell from her lips and was replaced by a scowl.

"Am I right?"

She said nothing and turned to the whiteboard that covered a whole wall and started writing out today's lesson plan. I looked at Relic who was sat to my left and he grinned.

"I think you're right," he whispered.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? I'm hot _and_a genius."

"Odair!" Miss Roche turned and slammed the pen she had been writing with onto the table. "If you are going to interrupt my lesson anymore, then I suggest you wait outside!"

"But that will mean missing out on the best lesson of the day! I suppose I _could_ live without one History class, but I hope you realize how much this is hurting me, Miss Roche. After all, I'm already enthralled by how Latin was adopted as the second language," I said, reading off the board with the lesson objectives scrawled across it.

"Out!" she yelled, her wrinkled skin flushed lightly.

"Okay, okay," I sighed.

I left my bag and walked out into the corridor. Windows faced out onto a large beach that doubled as the sports field when it was needed. For most of the year swimming was the only exercise that school offered. The exception to this was when the temperatures dropped below freezing in midwinter. Then we were all forced out to do laps across the beach.

"Finnick?" It was Annie, walking down the hall with a stack of textbooks in her arms.

"Oh, hey Annie, how're you?"

"I'm good." She paused a little awkwardly and hurriedly said, "I'm so glad you came back." A pink blush colored her cheeks as she waited for me to say something.

"Thanks. I'm pretty glad I came back too. I would've been quite pissed off if I didn't."

She opened her mouth as if to say something else, but then closed it and smiled awkwardly. After a small pause, she said, "Are you going to be a mentor next year?"

"Yeah, I guess." The thought filled me with a mixture of terror and pride. Mentors were respected for being wise, noble and pretty much awesome. However the knowledge of the job I was going to have to do – train kids, hoping that one of them would live to see their next birthday – was a terrible price to pay for the reputation.

"You might see more of me then," the blush spread up her cheeks even more.

It took me a minute to understand what she was saying. "…You're going to volunteer?"

Annie nodded. "But not for a few years. I'm still not feeling very prepared. Anyway," she said, hugging the books to her chest, "I'd better go. Mr. Instone will be wondering where I am. Bye."

"See you later," I said, my arrogance fading out of my voice as I watch the twelve-year-old hurry to her classroom to avoid getting told off by a teacher. Part of me knew that if she volunteered she wouldn't live for very long.

Miss Roche stuck her head out of the door. "Can you behave yourself now?"

"Yes, Miss Roche," I said weakly, my thoughts still taken up with Annie.

"Good. Join Endrich and Wainwright. You're doing group work."

I sat down next to Relic, opposite Naomi – a girl who was moved up a year because she was so smart. She was one of the prettiest girls in the school, but her teacher's pet attitude really put me off.

"Do you think Roche knows how to speak in complex sentences? She seems to have an obsession with grunting."

Relic laughed as Naomi looked down at the desk, shocked.

"If she hears you, she'll probably cut your head off."

"She can't do that." I rocked back on my chair, throwing my hands behind my head. "I am the latest Victor and adored by every female that moves. Possibly a few males as well."

"Finnick Odair!" Miss Roche shouted from the other end of the classroom. "If you do not stop messing around and get on with some work, I will be taking you to the head's office."

"Miss Roche obviously isn't affected by your charms," Relic muttered as I gathered my stationary.

"Miss Roche obviously isn't human."

"Shush!" Naomi – who had been watching me with wide eyes for the entire duration of the conversation – hissed. "Get on with the work."

I moaned quietly, "But I don't know the answers." To tell the truth, I hadn't even looked at the sheet were meant to be doing. "It's hard."

"It really isn't."

"Well maybe not for a brain box like _you_. But for the rest of us stupid people, it's impossible to even understand the question."

Naomi raised her eyebrows at me. "You find _this_ impossible to understand."

"Yes, I'm an idiot." I pushed my lower lip out as my eyebrows puckered in the middle of my forehead. Naomi glanced uneasily to the front, where Miss Roche was observing the class, before pushing her completed worksheet at me. What could I say? My puppy face could cure deadly diseases.

I spent the rest of the lesson copying of Naomi's sheet. She didn't object again; she spent the lesson talking to her friends on a nearby table. As the bell signaling the end of first lesson rang and I leapt to my feet, shoving my books into bag and gave Naomi her sheet back with a grateful smile.

"See you next lesson, Odair," she said as she flounced at the room.

Relic rolled his eyes at me as we walked more slowly towards the exit. "Only you would manage to make the goody-goody girl into a slut."

"I have magical powers, just face it."

Calculus passed in a blur. Usually, I hated the subject however the teacher seemed adamant to get into my good books and didn't force me to do any work all lesson. Relic and I sat at the back of the class for an hour, swinging back on the chairs and talking loudly. This earned annoyed glares from the rest of the kids, who were being forced to work in near-silence, but none of them complained out loud.

The two hours seemed to disappear in no time, and I wondered how I had ever found school hard. In comparison to the time that had dragged by in the arena, two puny hours of math seemed like a walk in the park. I blinked in shock as the nasal sound of the bell reverberated throughout the building and pushed myself to my feet – shoving my untouched books back into my bag.

"So did you meet anyone _special_ in the Capitol?" Wade fluttered his eyelids at me as we lounged on the concrete courtyard. The sun was shining and everyone was stripping off their school-regulation jackets and using them as picnic blankets while they ate their lunch.

"Yes, Wade, I had relations with several hundred Capitol girls in the few days I was there. And, of course, I had illicit sex with all of them," I answered sarcastically. I was obviously joking, but there was subtle harshness to my voice that – thankfully – went unnoticed.

Grover, who had always been gullible, sat bolt upright; his mouth hung open. "_Really_?"

"No, Grover, not really." Despite being friends with him since I was five years old, his stupidity still left me reeling. "Have you _seen_ them? Most of them look like they're the product of an affair between a toad and a buffalo. I have got standards."

"Not very high standards if you're really dating Camela."

"Which I'm not."

"Poor girl," Wade shook his head sympathetically. "Let her down gently, alright? And possibly mention that I'm an _excellent_ shoulder to cry on."

"Seriously? You can do so much better than Camela."

"She's kind of hot," Wade said. "Besides, all of the good-looking ones are pining after you at the moment, so the rest of us shall just have to settle with the rejects." He shoved a piece of bread into his mouth before continuing. "So seeing as you have got all of these girls worshipping you, which one are you going to pick? Personally, I'd choose Jody."

There were noises of agreement from the rest of my friends. Jody Sage was in the year below us and was widely regarded as the prettiest girl in the District. When the Hunger Games weren't on, Jody's love life was one of the most popular topics for gossip and managing to date her for more than two weeks gave a guy a god-like reputation. She was also a bitch, according to her (many) ex-boyfriends. Myself included.

"I am _not_ going out with that girl again; it was the worst month of my life."

"She'll probably be nicer now that you're a Victor," Relic pointed out.

"Or she'll still be a demanding cow," I said. "No, for now I'll just stick to being single. After all, I'll still be devilishly attractive this time next year."

The looks I received from Grover and Relic clearly announced that I was mental and Wade looked gob smacked.

"Did I just hear that right? Finnick Odair isn't going to get with _any_ girl? Damn boy, what did those Games _do_ to you?"

I snorted and elbowed him in the ribs to avoid answering. My friends were just the same as they had been before I left: funny, sarcastic and slightly immature. I still liked them greatly, but the little remark Wade made about the Games brought to light how differently I thought now. All I wanted to do was sink back into my normal life and forget that nightmarish month in the arena but it was already looking impossible. The Hunger Games were a central part to District life; I wasn't going to be able to escape from them no matter how hard I tried. Of course, President Snow's conversation was still hanging in my mind and that was part of the great turn off I had for girls at the moment.

"So who're you taking to the Piscis this year if you aren't going to ask a girl?" Grover asked.

"Probably Ariel – she's wanted to go ever since she learnt how to talk."

"That's cute and all, but you do realize that you just said you were going to take your sister to the Piscis? That's, like, the biggest waste ever."

The Piscis was a festival that the Capitol had introduced a year after the Dark Days had ended. Panem was still very weak and, as practically all its food had been destroyed in the rebellion, starvation was common in all the Districts. So the Capitol – who was desperate for more food – ordered District 4 to catch as much fish as we possibly could in a day. Though the Capitol is hardly in need of food, everyone in District 4 still goes fishing every year on the same day. It's the highlight of the year as there's so much fish caught that everyone eats for the next month and there are so many fishing competitions held that nearly everyone comes away with a prize of some kind. It had gained so many traditions throughout all the years it had been held that the festival was a mash-up of all the big Panem holidays in one day, which meant every girl was expecting to be invited by the boy they liked. As far as romantic moments went, being kissed or proposed to during the fireworks at the Piscis was top, which was why it was the prime holiday for kids to hook up with whoever they wanted.

"I'll do something extravagant next year," I promised. "But I'm not sure I can handle listening to a girl whining all night."

"Such a waste," Wade said mournfully, shaking his head before perking up considerably. "But it does mean more choice for us!"

A cloud drifted in front of the sun, momentarily dimming the courtyard as the bell obnoxiously squealed the first warning that lessons were beginning again soon. I sighed and pushed myself to my feet, pulling the green jacket back on.

The last hour wasn't considered to be a lesson – it was a compulsory hour of torture that involved a teacher droning on about our 'duty to the Capitol'. In simpler words, it was 'fishing theory' where we were taught how all of our catches belonged to the President and so we should catch as much as possible. Instead of being separated into classes, the whole school sat silently in the hall and dozed off as the lecturer – Mr. Knowles – spat out words like 'honor' and 'obligation'. The other teachers prowled the perimeter of the room, waiting mercilessly for anyone to open their mouths.

As always, Knowles ended the hour with his traditional sign off. "We dedicate our lives to feeding this great nation, and so we must do it well or we will have wasted our lives." If it hadn't been the end of the lesson I would have knocked my head against the wall until I either died or passed out. "So tonight, when you join your family at sea, remember why you're fishing. You're dismissed for the day. Leave quietly and in well mannered order."

Everybody got to their feet lethargically having been seated in the same position for the past hour. It would be considered an easy subject if it wasn't for the twenty-page essays that were set every month or so which meant that it was suicide not to listen.

"Aren't you _so_ glad to be back at school, Finnick," Wade sang as we pushed our way through the mob of people gathered at the wide doors.

"It completes my life," I replied drily and winked at a group of girls who had fallen silent when they saw us approaching. They broke into manic giggles and hissed at each other.

"I think you'll find that _we_ complete your life," Grover said. "After all, you wouldn't survive school without the help of the most magnificent people in the world."

"Oh, of course." I caught sight of Ariel sitting on the fence, her legs swinging back and forth as she waited for me to arrive. I said goodbye to my friends before hurrying over to walk home with her, as I had been doing ever since she started school. It was a routine that would never die.

The sky was still cloudy as she hopped down from her seat and followed me out of the school. Being on the coast, District 4 was prone to freak weather changes that blew in from the sea. Hurricanes were commonplace, but they generally didn't start until later in the year.

"So how was your day?" I asked, shoving my hands deep in my pockets to protect them from the biting wind that was picking up.

"I didn't do any of my homework so all my teachers shouted at me," she sulked.

I laughed. "Well at least you didn't get in big trouble. When you get older, the teachers keep you behind all evening and make you gut the fish that people catch in physical education."

Ariel's eyes widened. "You're lying. You've never done that..." she protested, but her voice was uncertain.

With my best serious voice, I replied, "No, I'm not lying, I promise you."

"I always wondered what happened to the fish we catch." I couldn't contain my laugh any longer, and Ariel looked affronted as she realized that she'd been on the receiving end of my joke. "Finn! That's _not_ funny! I actually believed you."

"I know," I gasped, wiping at my eyes. "That's what makes it so funny."

"Shut up."

"Aw, don't be made, Ariel. That's what little sisters are for! I need someone to lie to otherwise I wouldn't ever have any fun."

The Peacekeepers posted at the start of the road up to Victor's Village nodded at us as we walked past. There was a small crowd of Capitol paparazzi whose cameras flashed as I flashed them a smile and a few winks. Ariel skipped daintily past, ignoring all of the attention – from the photographers and me.

"C'mon, Ariel, you love me really." Silence. "Oh are you ignoring me?" Silence. "Do you remember what I did last time you tried to ignore me?" The corner of her mouth quivered as she suppressed a smile, but apart from that, there was no reaction. "Really? Well then, I'll just have to remind you."

I ran a couple of steps to sweep her up into my arms, disregarding her squawk of indignation at being manhandled. As soon as she was partially restrained, my hand flew up to her stomach and tickled her mercilessly. She yelled out, her legs thrashing as she laughed.

"Give in?" I teased.

"Yes!" she cried. "Yes! I'll talk to you! Now put me down."

I set her upright on her feet and we walked the final few steps up to our home arm in arm.

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_Next update: __**26/27th March**_

_Awww... Brother/sister love is always cute. I would love to have Fishnick as my older brother... That would be awesome._

_Thank you very much to anyone who favourited Net and Trident (which is surprisingly big amount) and even more love to the people who took the time to review. I love all my readers very much._


	22. Hurricanes and Punishment

_This chapter is definitely dedicated to my beta, 's thanks to her and her amazingly quick response that you're all getting this chapter on time. So thanks for putting up with my terrible organisational skills._

_Yeah, I don't own THG._

_This is a depressing chapter. I'm horrible to Fishnick, I really am._

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**Chapter Twenty One: Hurricanes and Punishment**

The weather got progressively worse over the next few days. On Wednesday evening, the teachers told us not to bother getting up early for school tomorrow; a hurricane was sure to arrive over night. Wade, Grover and I had plans to celebrate this welcome news, but none of our parents were going to let us stay out in the terrible weather. Instead, we hunkered down inside the new house and wondered how well the expensive brick would stand against the howling winds. The homes in District 4 were built to withstand the assault of any climate, but the Capitol might have overlooked this detail when they tried to make the District 4 houses as aesthetically pleasing as possible.

It was a pointless worry; the buffeting winds and rain began to surround the District early on Thursday morning but I barely noticed them. The expensive brick walls protected us easily from the bad weather.

I spent the day indoors with Dad and Ariel, enjoying the first full day we had together since I left for the Games. We were uninterrupted except for the infrequent phone calls from family friends checking to see that we were okay.

I wasn't worried about anyone else – their houses had sheltered them from hurricanes many times before. It was nice to finally have some family time with them. Even though I had been back at home for almost a week, I didn't feel like I had seen enough of either of them. Instead of doing the pile of homework that covered my desk in our study, I allowed Ariel to convince me to curl up on one of cushioned leather sofas in our living room. Dad – who, at first, resisted the temptation of our laughter and tried to do some finances – joined us at noon with bowls of crisps and several bars of expensive chocolate.

Even our posh house couldn't completely mask the howling of the winds and it only got worse as the day progressed. Dad dragged us into the kitchen when the thunder began crashing (and Ariel began crying) through the sky to help him make dinner. The sounds of communal cooking momentarily masked the noises of the storm.

It was an elaborate meal, not as fancy as one from the Capitol, but it still took several hours to prepare. Cooking was one of the many ways my Dad had tried to get over Mom's death, so he had many different recipes up his sleeves. Ariel napped in one of the comfy leather chairs that were positioned in the corner of the kitchen as Dad and I did the more difficult parts of the cooking. She looked adorable, with her head cradled in one of her small palms and her mouth hanging open slightly. My heart swelled with contentedness as I returned my attention to the vegetables that needed to be sliced.

Dad remained quiet for a while. I knew he used cooking as an attempt to remember Mom and I respected that.

Eventually, the temptation to ask got the better of me, and I quietly said, "What was she like?"

Dad looked up from the pastry he was rolling. "What? Who?"

"Mom." Dad's eye widened, but he didn't try to stop the conversation so I took it has a sign to continue. "I just... I can barely remember anything about her. And when I was in the arena, there was this time when I was so hungry and all I could remember was what Mom used to do when I was hungry."

"She was... a lot like you are now. Caring, funny..."

"Amazingly gorgeous?" I joked weakly.

Dad snorted. "Yes, she had your arrogance too."

"How did she... I mean, I know she got ill. But you've never told Ariel or me what with."

"You really want to have this conversation _now_?" There was the uncomfortable _I-don't-want-to-talk-about-this_edge that I had been expecting to come up as soon as I mentioned Mom.

"Yeah?" I phrased it like a question, still not entirely sure how Dad was going to take it. "The Games made me realize how little I knew... I don't want to live my whole life not knowing about my family."

"...Finnick," Dad said after a pause. "I will tell you everything you want to know about your mother just not tonight? Please? Can't I just enjoy having you home, safe and sound? You've been in such a good mood all day, and if we get onto the topic of she... went away... I just know that it won't stay this happy."

"But you will tell me, right?"

"Tell him what?" Ariel asked from the chair in the corner of the room.

"How to cook a fish without it dissolving into mush," I said.

"But that's _easy_," Ariel protested. "Even I can do that."

Dad laughed. "Ariel, the last time you tried to fry fish for us, Finnick got food poisoning and had to take the week of school while you walked around with a bandaged arm because you spilt some of the boiling oil on yourself."

I shuddered as I remembered those seven days when I had been kept in bed with a bucket being my only form of constant company. It had been months ago, but the memories were still very fresh in my mind: I hadn't eaten any fried fish for weeks afterwards.

"Yeah, Ariel, let's not start on my cooking skills when I have a thousand examples of why it's bad to let a nine year old near any type of food."

A sharp _crack_ echoed through the room as something – a branch or a stone – hit a window with remarkable force. We all jumped and stared hard at the glass, wondering if it would shatter. Obviously, the Capitol had used glass that was similar in strength to reinforced concrete because there wasn't even a crack. Though it couldn't be any later than six, the thick storm clouds had darkened the world outside until it resembled night. The only thing that could be seen through the window were the streams of water that dripped down the surface.

The house phone rang – I answered it while Dad shut the blinds.

"Hey, Finn," Grover's cheerful voice sounded on the other end of the line. "How's everything coping in your fancy-pants new house?"

"Everything's fine here," I informed while sitting down in the chair Ariel had been napping in. "Something just hit the window but there isn't even a crack. The Capitol obviously built these houses to be storm-proof. I'm guessing you're annoyed at the twenty billions neighbors your parents have crammed into your lounge?"

Grover's groan on the other end of the line told me everything. Before I had won the Games, Grover was the richest person I knew. His family just _had_ money. The actual breakthrough for them happened decades ago when Grover's great-grandfather opened a fishing company that grew and grew until it dominated the market. Since then, the profits had just kept increasing and Grover's family got richer.

Though they had let the money get to their head, Grover's parents were genuinely nice people and invited less-well off residents into their hurricane-proof house whenever there was a big storm headed towards District 4. Grover usually didn't mind, but he almost always called in frustration when the little kids started invading his room.

As if to prove my point, he whined, "Is it really that hard to leave my room alone? I mean, there's _loads_ room downstairs but they always wind up wreaking havoc."

"It won't last too much longer. A day at the most."

Grover moaned and I heard a muted _thud_ on the other end of the line.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Me hitting my head against the wall-" A high-pitched shriek followed by a childlike sob interrupted whatever Grover was saying and he groaned. "I'll see you on Monday. Unless the monsters have eaten me alive."

"They're just kids," I said, laughing. "Have fun."

"Ugh," was the last thing I heard before the line went dead.

"Finnick," Dad called from the stove, "we need to finish cooking sometime tonight."

I threw the phone into the charging dock as I made my way back to the counters, which were heaped with dirty plates and bowls of cooked food. The house was filled with a pleasant aroma when we finally set the dishes on the table. Though there was plenty of room to sit a comfortable distance apart from one another, Dad, Ariel and I chose the three chairs at the end of the table and squished all the various bowls and dishes between our own plates.

"Pass the salt, Ariel," Dad said as I, laughing, held the salt just out of his reach. He continued, "Or hit your brother, I don't mind which."

Ariel giggled and tapped me lightly on this head as I stuck my tongue out at her weak arm.

"Finnick! You're _so_ childish," she said grabbing the salt out of my hand.

The glass bottle fell from her fist as the front door slammed open. It shattered, salt scattering all over the table. The harsh sounds of the storm flooded the house; the winds blew away the warm, scented air. Feet pounded down the corridor and six Peacekeepers marched into the dining room, guns in hand with water dripping off their white uniforms. Before any of us could move, a pair of them dragged Dad out of his chair onto the floor.

I jumped to my feet, in front of Ariel. "What are you doing? Let him go!"

Two of the Peacekeepers pointed their guns at Ariel and me, pushing us back into a corner where they restrained our hands with simple plastic bands that dug painfully into the soft flesh around my wrists. The other four were pinning Dad on the floor pulling his hands above his head.

"Dad!" Ariel cried while trying to hide behind me.

"Ariel, Finnick don't panic." It was obvious the calm tone in his voice was forced. "I'm sure this is just a misunderstand-"

His sentence was cut off as a Peacekeeper raised his gun and – without a word of explanation – sent a bullet through his head.

It took my brain a second to catch up.

"Dad..." I said, trying to fight the Peacekeepers who had me in handcuffs, but they were much stronger than me and kept me easily restrained. I called out to him again, hoping desperately that it wasn't as terrible as it looked. Hoping that he was alive. "Dad! Open your eyes, Dad. Come back to us! Dad!"

Ariel's cried mingled in with mine, but hers were softer – gentler. "Daddy... Daddy... Why?" Her small voice trembled as her eyes rose to the blank Peacekeeper's mask before they settled on my helpless face. "What happened?" she asked.

Before I could answer, Peacekeepers pulled her away and pushed her to the floor next to Dad's immobile body. Protests tumbled off my lips as one pointed a gun to her head.

"Finnick!" Ariel struggled uselessly against the Peacekeeper's hold. The man ignored her clawing hands and tightened his grip around her neck, cutting off her shrieks.

"Oh god, Ariel, no. Let her go, _let her go!_ She hasn't done _anything_ to you! Let her _go,_" I pleaded as the Peacekeepers kept me pinned to the floor.

I was helpless as I watched Ariel struggle for breath in the Peacekeeper's stranglehold. She had given up fighting him and was just wildly sucking in any air as her teary eyes fixed on my face.

"Please," I begged again, "Please just let her go." Her eyes were slightly unfocused as her eyelids drooped. "Ariel! Stay awake, Ariel! _Let her go!_ For god's sake, she hasn't done anything at all! She's only nine years old! Ariel, keep your eyes open; honey, don't go to sleep. You can't leave your big brother alone; you know I won't be able to survive a week without the promise of seeing you."

Her head fell forward as all of her muscles relaxed. The Peacekeeper who had been restraining her just dropped the limp girl onto the floor, kicking her lifeless head as he walked over to crouch in front of me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared at my little sister's broken body; the fight had left my body as I hung limply in the Peacekeeper's firm grip.

"President Snow would like you to reconsider you position on his offer," he said quietly, almost politely. "Or that old woman will be next."

I couldn't look away from my family. "I'll do anything you want. Anything. I promise."

The next day, it was announced in the papers that their deaths had been caused a window shattering while they had stood too close. Apparently the Capitol was already looking into why the house hadn't been structurally sound. President Snow had issued the Odair household a formal apology for the weakness of the Capitol and had prepared the funeral to be held at the most prestigious burial site of the whole of District 4 in repayment.

Mags was the only one who came to visit me and comfort me.

I couldn't help but think how close she had been to dying last night, along with the only remaining members of my family. It didn't stay on my mind for very long, though, I found myself slipping into unconsciousness within a few minutes of reading the article.

* * *

_Next Update:__**2nd/3rd April**_

_Oh god, I'm evil. Next chapter will (unsurprisingly) have a lot of angst in it. And we will discover where Finnick got his knot-tying habit._

_Mags will feature heavily, and we'll soon be seeing a bit more of Annie._

_:)_


	23. Coping Mechanisms

_Short chapter today – but filled with angst, as will the next few be._

_Thank you so much for all of your reviews :D You have no idea how happy it makes me when I get a notification that another person has reviewed!_

_And this story has hit 100 pages on Word, and I'm still not halfway through! :P Chapter twenty two and we've only covered about... a month? Things will start moving pretty quickly in the next chapters though._

_Nope, still don't own the Hunger Games. Dammit._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Two: Coping Mechanisms**

"Come on, Finnick," Mags took the newspaper that I was shredding to pieces away. My hands continued tearing the empty air as my eyes roamed around the room, unable to focus on anything.

I could still _see_ the words printed in that horrible article.

_Hurricane claims two more victims._

_...Deaths shock the nation._

_...President Snow formally apologizes to the remaining family..._

_...Capitol review the structure of their constructions..._

_Finnick Odair, recent Hunger Games victor, hasn't been seen since the tragedy took place._

I just wanted it out of my head. I didn't want to read the false words anymore – I didn't want to see the cover up stories that were being spread through all the Districts. I didn't want the Capitol's sympathy for a tragedy that_they_caused. I wanted my family back.

Mags' hands covered my restless ones as she knelt in front of me. It had taken the hurricane six hours to die down. Mags had arrived an hour later with a smile on her face. That was quickly replaced with a look of horror when she walked into the kitchen and saw me, huddled over the bodies of my family, still calling out to them.

I don't remember anything after that.

When I woke up the bodies were gone: Mags informed me that they were being taken to prepare for the funeral that the President was organizing.

I broke down then.

It took Mags a full day to calm me down enough to convince me to tell her what had happened, and she had to wait another hour for me to tell the story in its entirety. Every word I spoke forced me to relive the moments in my mind – scene after unbearable scene flickering through my head as if on constant loop.

"Finnick," Mags engulfed me in one of her motherly hugs that I cherished more than anything else in the world at that moment. "I'm so sorry. I should have realized that Snow gets what he wants using disgusting methods."

_Ariel's body was so small_.

"You can't blame yourself for this, Finnick; you weren't to know what Snow is capable of. That was my job as your mentor."

_Dad didn't look peaceful as he lay on the floor – he just looked lonely._

"Finnick, please, look at me."

I couldn't. My eyes stayed locked on the polished wooden floor of Mags' home (she had pulled me out of mine when she realized that it was too overwhelming for me). Her gentle hand pushed my chin up slightly so that it was almost impossible not to look at her face. The loss and guilt was clear. I vaguely wondered what I must look like, if Mags – who had barely been involved – looked as bad as she did. Her graying hair was pulled away from her face: a few wisps fell down over her creased forehead and her lips were turned down at the edges.

_There's so much blood._

"Tell me what's in your head."

I drew in a shaky breath. "I can't st-stop... _thinking_."

"About?"

_The peacekeeper kicks Ariel as he casually walks out of the room._

"I want to stop thinking," I whispered, clenching my eyes closed.

"Concentrate on something else," Mags ordered. "Anything else. Pick a hobby."

_My hands are covered in blood that's not mine._

"I... Please, I- I..." Mags pulled me into a hug, and wound my fingers into her hair for comfort.

Mags noticed my fingers knotting into her hair, and she pulled back with a small smile. "Stay here – I've got an idea."

She disappeared through a door and left me sitting in her spotless lounge. It was different to my Victor's house – the windows were forward facing so I could look out at the green in the middle of Victor's Village. The tips of the grass were visible above the flood of water that covered almost everything. Uprooted trees that had been blown over by the ferocious winds lay haphazardly over the roads. People merely avoided them, not bothering to pick them up and move them.

_The wind and rain batter through the open front door as the Peacekeepers march in with guns._

Mags returned with several long pieces of rope – the type that were used to make the small fishing nets to catch the fish that the Capitol liked to keep as pets. She handed me two pieces. It was softer than most so that the fish weren't harmed, and felt like silk in my hands.

I looked down at the chords blankly, then back up at Mags for an explanation.

"You like fiddling with things; you need to keep your hands busy. I thought that maybe you would like to tie some knots."

_The gun in pointed at my Dad's head and I watch as the bullet pierces his temple._

"I know you can tie knots – I watched you make that net." Mags cocked her head at me as I play with the soft ropes – feeling along their lengths for any imperfections. Then, making sure I could clearly see what she was doing, she picked up another two pieces of rope and tied a knot then held it up for me to see. "This is a grief knot."

Without thinking, my hands mimicked her movements as I wound the string in my hands around one another. It wasn't a secure knot, and the silkiness of the rope meant it fell apart in seconds, but Mags didn't stop there.

"Windsor knot," she said, demonstrating another type. As soon as I had done the same, she untied it and showed me another one. "Diamond knot."

The list went on in much the same manner. They got harder, but Mags always waited until I had done one before moving onto another.

We spent the rest of the day practicing the knots that she knew until I fell asleep on the couch in her living room, the half-finished double fisherman's knot still in my hands. The next morning, Mags woke me up with breakfast in her hands (which she made sure that I ate) before continuing the knots. By mid-afternoon, I was teaching her all the knots that I knew from fishing. My hands worked tirelessly over the hours, and I could feel blisters developing on my fingertips but I refused to let them hinder me. The knots were a welcome distraction from the pain of the memories.

"Double overhang knot," I said and held up the rope. I fiddled with it a little longer and then said, "Surgeon's knot." The slippery material couldn't hold its shape for long, and the surgeon's knot was barely intact for a minute for it disintegrated in my hands. I set to work on re-knotting it.

* * *

_**BIG IMPORTANT NEWS ABOUT UPDATES:**__I'm going on holiday this Friday to South Africa to visit family. I'm going to be gone for 19 days (from the 8th to the 26th) and I honestly don't think I'm going to be able to get much writing done and I have no idea what the internet connection's going to be like.  
So, the next chapter will be up on the __**16**__**th**__**/17**__**th**__** April**__ (two weeks from now) or __**23**__**rd**__**/24**__**th**__** April**__.  
I'm sorry about the wait._


	24. Time Flies

_Yeah, so here's the full chapter. To make up for the long wait, it's a decent length (I think)._

_I've finally moved the time forward a bit, but please tell me if you think I've done it a bit unrealistically, but I can't cope with another six pages of Finnick-angst so I had to start cheering him up a bit._

_As always, THG belong to Suzanne Collins._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Three: Time Flies**

The following weeks were the hardest I had ever had to face. The days dragged by with the same sympathetic and pitying looks from everyone around me. My friends had no idea how to act towards me and so shifted between treating me as if I was made of china and being too loud and boisterous. Everyone else pretended there was a five-meter radius around me that they couldn't enter. I barely saw the girls that had been fawning over. In class – which I had been forced to attend after a week of mourning – the teachers didn't look at me, let alone ask me questions.

The Piscis arrived too soon – forcing me to remember my promise to Ariel to take her. Instead, I found myself bawling into Mags' lap as she watched the fireworks from her window. I felt bad taking up so much of her time, but she assured me that she didn't mind whenever I tried to apologies. Truthfully, I was glad that she was sacrificing almost every day to check up on me; I knew that I wouldn't have been able to cope without her support.

The weeks turned to months as I resumed my normal life in a trance-like state. I couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a few seconds before my mind slid back into that dark place; whenever that happened, my hands automatically pulled out the pieces of rope I always carried in my pocket.

My fifteenth birthday passed without the grand ceremony that usually occurred for new Victors (mainly because I hid inside Mags' house and tied endless knots as we discussed what the President had in store for me now).

Slowly, the memories faded and – though I had the reputation of a slightly crazy man – people began warming up to me again. At first, Grover was the only person (aside from Mags) who could forget my behavior of the past months and have normal conversation with me. Slowly, Wade joined in followed quickly by Relic and anyone else that was standing close by. Girls began to warm up to me again and in November, Naomi allowed me to copy from her work in first lesson again. I took it as a sign of success – if the prissy Naomi had forgiven me, then my status must have been salvaged slightly.

Just in time for the Victory Tour.

I counted down the days, terrified of what would happen when I had a face-to-face meeting with Snow. I wasn't sure whether I could cope with whatever ordeal he would put me through, though I was healing, the wounds of the memories were still raw and hurt whenever I brushed against them. I couldn't stand seeing the President and having to pretend that nothing's wrong – that I was the Finnick the Capitol had loved – while all the while knowing he had ordered the deaths of my family. Though Mags did nothing but comfort me, I could tell from the pensive expressions on her face that she was worrying about the events of the Tour.

When I peeled my eyes open on the morning of the first day, everything in my body screamed at me just to roll over or pull the covers above my head - to go back to sleep and avoid the coming torture. Instead, I found myself painfully awake as I pushed the duvet off and slipped on some nondescript clothes that I would wear until my prep team descended on District Four.

Mags was already bustling about her front garden when I jogged up the path. Even though it was midwinter, she spent most of her day up to her elbows in compost and plant fertilizer, trying to persuade the evergreens to stay green.

"Good morning." She pulled off her gardening gloves and joined me as I made my way into her house. "There's some breakfast for you in the frying pan on the stove. I'm going to freshen up before all the damn cameras arrive." She glanced at the clock once more before walking up the stairs to her room.

Lethargically, I wandered into the kitchen and got myself a plate – tipping the salmon that Mags had cooked onto the china. I ate standing up, leaning against the kitchen counter, as every available surface bore signs of my 'talent' for the cameras. Knots of all sorts lay around, discarded as soon as they were finished. Some I had woven into bracelets and necklaces, others were just pretty, brightly colored, useless ornaments. There was a half-finished net – much more intricate than the one I had made in the arena – lying on the kitchen table where I had left it the night before.

"I'm not ready for this," I told Mags as she joined me. Her graying hair was pulled up into a bun and she had changed from her casual gardening clothes into a smart black suit.

She gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "It won't last too long. Just smile and you'll get through."

This command was almost impossible to follow as my prep team arrived an hour later, all bearing sympathetic, pitying looks as they drew me into my house and pushed me down onto my bed. Before I could even open my mouth, they were offering me fake condolences for my loss. I found that it was easier to press my lips together, stare at the floor and nod whenever I felt another one of their hands patting my hair patronizingly.

Surie's eyebrows had disappeared completely in the months since I had last seen her. In their place were two thin, pink lines tattooed onto her skin – which was now colored lilac. Narla had followed Surie's example and sported two thin orange lines. Sparroh remained marginally unchanged apart from his facial decorations now spread down his neck and disappeared under his shirt.

"So, what's your talent?" Narla pestered as the pulled the strip of wax from under my eyebrow.

I winced. "Knot-tying."

"How original!" she gushed. "I was so scared you were going to do something bland and boring like _poetry._ Not that I would mind hearing a poem from you – especially a_love_ poem – because I bet you are talented at everything, but I really like the younger Victors who have something fresh to show us." She tugged the other wax strip off. I blinked rapidly to prevent my eyes watering too much. "Surie, do you remember that Victor four years back?"

"The one who played the piano? God, she was _boring_. I wanted to kill myself for the first part of the Tour coverage while she played that stupid song."

"I _know_. I almost couldn't bear to watch the rest, but I do like the Games recaps so I bravely stuck with it…"

And on and on the inane chatter went.

Daphne bounced in half an hour after Xenya arrived to put the finishing touches onto my outfit. She gave me a spectacularly suffocating hug before allowing Xenya to get back to his work (with much tutting at the new wrinkles).

"That suit is _marvelous_!" she squealed. "I simply adore that aqua color, Xenya. I may have to get my hair dyed to match."

I had already been subjected to the fashion-talk of my prep team, and I wasn't sure if I could handle it from Daphne as well, so I diverted her attention with my own question.

"What's the schedule for today?"

Daphne started her list of timings while Xenya forced my feet into uncomfortable, pinching shoes.

"Well, once we're done here, you need to go and film your talent for the cameras which will take around half an hour. Then they just want a few shots of you doing generic things in your house and around the Victor's Village and then we're getting on the train to District Twelve."

"When are we arriving in Twelve?"

"If everything goes to plan – at around nine tomorrow morning." Daphne wrinkled her nose in distaste at either the early time or the district itself. "Thank god we only have to stay there for one day though." She looked me up and down as Xenya stepped away and nodded to herself. "You're as gorgeous as ever. Let's go."

Downstairs, my living was entirely covered by my various knots. One section – which Narla and Surie were gushing over – was dedicated to all of the delicate bracelets and necklaces that I had made for Mags. Another side held the dream-catchers that an older Victor – Kyler – showed me how to do one afternoon. There were many Capitol cameras and cameramen dotted around the room, taking various shots of my pieces. One of them shoved a small stack of cards in my hands before fetching a large microphone and ordering me to read off the cards.

"Living in District Four, I've been making nets and fishing lines since I could walk but it was always a thing of necessity. Now I've won the Games, I have so much free time that I took it up as a hobby. It still amazes me how many different things a person can make with knots! So, this collection was inspired and designed…"

The cheesiness of the cards just increased as I flipped through them. The microphone guy seemed happy as I finished, though, and shook my hand enthusiastically as a goodbye before moving away to fiddle with another piece of equipment. Within a second of his leaving, another flunky had taken his place and was seating me in one of the leather armchairs that were dotted around the room.

"Sorry for keeping you, Mr. Odair," he chirped without a hint of regret while handing me the half-finished gold net. "But we would like a few shots of you making this to demonstrate your talents to the Capitol."

"Oh, sure," I said, and took it from him.

He wheeled a camera over and positioned a few lights. "And action."

I ducked my head slightly as I continued from where I had finished. The pattern was an intricate mix of knotting and weaving the fine gold cords to make a fine mesh, decorated with ornamental patterns and pearls that I had bought at the market. I had started making it for Cade as he needed an anniversary present for his wife, but that deadline had passed a long time ago and now I just continued it for something to do.

"You look so _sexy_ while you work, Finnick-ie!" Narla said as she bounced over, holding one of my necklaces in her hand. "I was wondering whether I could have this. Daphne said that your jewelery wasn't for anyone special and it would be alright if I took a few pieces but I just wanted to check in case they mean something special to you."

"It's okay, Narla," I interrupted, knowing that she would talk for years if I let her. "You can have any that you want; it's not as if I'm going to wear them. Although I _would_ look hot in them."

She giggled and threw her arms round my neck. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank "Thank you! Thank you! Thank _you_!"

I laughed as I pried her off me. "You're welcome, Narla. And mention to Surie that she can take whatever pieces she wants as well."

"But she'll take the nicest ones!"

"Well you have first choice, Narla. Now run along, I'm sure Daphne has another splendid torture lined up for me." The similarity between Narla and a hyperactive nine-year-old child was remarkable, I realized as she bounded away from me and towards the jewelry where the cameras were packing up.

Apparently I didn't need to make the net anymore, as the cameraman had long since packed up the camera and moved away without mentioning to me. I sighed and pushed the net away, wandering out of the busy room to find Daphne. Surprisingly, she was having a cup of tea with Mags in the kitchen and both seemed to be in the middle of an in depth conversation with a lot of names I didn't recognize. The situation could be only be described as _friendly_.

Which was strange, seeing as Mags gave me the distinct impression that the whole Capitol was evil.

"Finnick!" Daphne called when she saw me. "Are you done in there?"

I nodded and sat myself down on a chair in between my mentor and my escort. Daphne smiled and gave me a quick, pointless hug as she stood up.

"I'll go get the director – he was telling me last night that he wanted some other shots, but I may have been a _little_ bit tipsy, so the details are all a little hazy." She giggled and waved at Mags. "It was nice catching up with you; we need more of our little girly chats."

"We really do," Mags said.

I turned to her as the door swung shut behind Daphne. "What was that?" I demanded

Mags looked mildly surprised at my outburst. "What was what?"

"That! That whole friendly, girlfriend talk that you were having with Daphne."

"It was exactly what it looked like. There wasn't much more to it than what you saw; we were just remembering some of the fun we've had on Victory Tours before."

"But... _Daphne_?"

"Finnick, you're going to spend the next decade of your life working in close proximity to Daphne and many other Capitol staff. You've got to learn to like – or at least put up with – some of. And despite being a little bubble-headed, Daphne's a very easy person to get along with."

"But she's from the _Capitol,_" I stressed, as if Mags was missing the most obvious point in the world.

Mags sighed softly. "You're a Victor now – with the amount of time Victors spend in the Capitol, you're practically one of them. And with Snow's... offer hanging over your head, you're going to be spending even more time with them than the rest of us. Try to make some real friend out there, okay?"

"Are you just going to mentor my life now?" I asked, somewhat sulkily. I had almost forgotten about what was expected of me in the Capitol.

"I think I might. God knows _you_will need all the help I can give you."

Daphne chose that moment to return, towing a slightly chubby man behind her. Or at least, I thought it was a man. The only thing that suggested that was the baldhead, but apart from that his androgynous facial features could easily have been placed on a girl.

"This is Mr. Coombes. He wants to do a few more takes."

I slowly got to my feet. "Okay."

Mr. Coombes nodded to himself and then started talking at a ridiculous speed and my ears had to strain to pick out the individual words and string them into a sentence. "We want to know the _inside_ Finnick, not just the Victor. So the Capitol wants to do a background on your life as voice over. Behind the commentary, they want small clips of you doing ordinary things, I'm going to follow you round for the next hour with a camera and just let you do all the little thing you would in normal day."

I blinked. "Is there anything specific you want to start with?"

"No, no," Mr. Coombes gibbered. "Just go!"

I looked at Mags for help. Suddenly, being placed under the spotlight, I was feeling rather self-conscious. Surely he didn't want to film me talking to Mags for an hour, which is what would happen if I didn't get some help.

"You were offering me coffee," she hinted.

I smiled gratefully. "Of course. Would you two like anything?" I asked, looking at Mr. Coombes and Daphne.

"Yes please," she chirped while Mr. Coombes shook his head and focused on the camera in his hands. As I brewed the coffee, I asked, "How do you like it, Daphne?"

"Oh, just black."

"Could I have-" Mags started, but I interrupted.

"A spoonful of cream into a weak coffee." I grinned at her. "I know." I had made enough coffee for Mags over the past few weeks to be able to brew it in my sleep.

"Excellent," I heard Mr. Coombes whisper to Daphne as I made the drinks, "I love the relationship between the two – like a mother and son. It'll be good to show Finnick popular in the District _and_ in the Capitol."

It was strange to hear my relationship with Mags dissected that simply by a bizarrely modified human. The bluntness of his words did draw one thing to my attention that I had been trying to avoid thinking about – I cared for Mags as if she was my mother. That meant that whatever President Snow was going to force me to do, there wasn't anything I could say to get out of it because otherwise he would destroy all I had left of my family. I sipped the cooling coffee quietly as I struggled to fully come to terms with what Snow had planned for me. But I at least had a week of touring the other districts before arriving in the Capitol.

Mr. Coombes filmed me doing the washing up, and then followed Mags and I like a hawk as we put on our shoes and coats. The Tour staff had already moved our belongings onto the train, but we got to enjoy a nice stroll through the heart of District Four first, so that a few more trivial shots of me could be taken.

I ran into Naomi and Annie as they did their food shopping, and Mr. Coombes almost jumped in joy when I stopped to talk to them.

"Have fun at school," I said as our conversation drew to a close, grinning at them as a form of goodbye.

"Yes," Annie said breathlessly. "Good luck on your Tour."

"I'll definitely be watching," Naomi flirted before Mags steered me towards the platform, where a mob of paparazzi waited.

Mr. Coombes shut off his camera and shook our hands, thanking us for the shots, before melding seamlessly with the line of men and women who obviously were the help on the train, boarding a carriage much further away that the one that was going to be my home.

I smiled at waved at the press before boarding the same train that I had been convinced was sending me to my execution six months ago. Of course, due to Capitol fashions, the whole thing had been redecorated and the whole train was covered in gold and silver to the point where it was rather painful to have your eyes open when the sun was shining into the carriage.

Cade – even though I had barely said two words to him since we got back to District Four – was already lounging on one of the plush couches, picking food from the huge plate that lay on the table closest to him.

I sunk into a seat opposite, reaching for the food as well.

"Are you ready to meet the districts?" he asked with a smile as the train pulled away from the platform.

I gave him a weak smile and replied with no enthusiasm, "Oh, you better believe it."

* * *

_Next Update (due to my exams): __**28th/29th May**_

_Eh... At least I'm warning you about this wait._


	25. Feasts and Starvation

_I'm going away tonight so I won't have any internet connection… Hence why you're getting this a day early :)_

_Holy hell, we're so close to 200 reviews! (I will actually scream if that happens.) And this story has had 10,000 hits. Now if that's not inspiration to make me start paying my poor, neglected Fishnick more attention I don't know what is. Now, I know I say this a lot – but I am a very bad author and I have literally no idea why anybody even bothers following this story, let alone the people who review. I love you all and I want to give each of you a cyber cookie for being so awesome.  
_

_Anyway, I've finished my little happy flail; you can actually read the chapter (Hunger Games doesn't belong to me, as always)._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Four: Feasts and Starvation**

District Twelve was bleak.

The drab, brown shacks seemed to glare at the train as it slithered past the outskirts of the poorest district.

We were met at the platform by a sour faced man who introduced himself as Mayor Undersee, and were escorted to the car by a large group of pristinely-clothed Peacekeepers. Their clean, unwrinkled garments highly contrasted the severely patched, thin layers that I saw on the few District Twelve inhabitants. Mags was studiously not looking out of her window – choosing instead to smooth out the wrinkles on his black skirt.

"How long are we here?" I whispered to Mags, careful not to let the Mayor – who was sitting in the front seat – overhear so not to offend him.

"We'll be back on the train by this evening," she whispered back, equally as quietly. "Don't worry – we don't even see that much of 12. It's just your balcony appearance."

I nodded and saved the rest of my questions until we were together privately. This happened as the car pulled into the main square, where there were a few market stalls being quickly and quietly dismantled. The people kept their heads down as the army of Peacekeepers descended around the car.

Even the Justice Building was less impressive than the one in 4 – and it was obviously the most cared for building in the whole of the district. A shaky-looking wooden platform had been constructed in front of the steps, and I recognised it from watching the reapings.

The Mayor left me, Mags, Cade, Daphne and Xenya alone to get ready for my public appearance. While Xenya fussed around with my outfit, I wracked my brains for any last information that I would need. I had been given the cards with my speech on them (the one card that I was allowed to write my own speech on had been left blank).

"What was the boy's name again?" I asked quietly.

"Likas," Cade supplied. "He died the in bloodbath."

_Along with Zoe_, I thought with a shudder. This was going to be one of the more awkward appearances, seeing as I had personally slit the throat of their twelve-year-old female tribute without even a smidgen of regret or remorse.

"Ready?" Daphne asked and I resisted the urge to shake my head. No I most definitely wasn't ready, but I was going to do it anyway.

Loud applause greets my arrival onto the platform, though it is obviously strained and only there for the sake of keeping up pretences. It's obvious – even to me – that I'm unwanted in a district that has only ever once won something out of the Hunger Games.

As if with that thought, my eyes fall on the middle-aged man, sitting to the side of the platform with the Mayor. Haymitch Abernathy is infamous in the Hunger Games – the only lving District Twelve winner whose only close relationship is with whatever cheap bottle of alcohol he can get his hands on. The Capitol has adopted him as their 'loveable stray', though I gained from the small talk that Mags and I had had over the past few months that he is a well-respected mentor.

He nods respectfully at me and I can't see any anger in his eyes. He's probably used the new Victors parading the deaths of his tributes every year.

However the two families who sat on either side of the square made up for the lack of aggression from Abernathy. Despite the obvious poverty of the groups, every single pair of eyes was glaring at me as the Mayor finished his congratulatory speech and I began my Capitol-scripted reply.

I tried not to look at them, choosing instead to examine the crowd in front of me. Most of the district appeared to be made up of dark-haired, grey-eyed people; each bore the look of a hard, thankless life. Though a few stood with their shoulders back and heads up, most seemed to slouch towards the ground as if defeated.

My eyes flicked up to the two stands only once more throughout my speech – when I thanked the district for watching the Games and supporting the Capitol and me throughout.

Zoe's mother was sobbing into her husband's arms while he stared adamantly at the ground.

I didn't look back as I finished my speech and the Mayor approached me, bearing a plaque and a small bouquet of flowers. The plaque is huge, and it took me a moment to juggle it into one hand before I could accept the small bundle of wildflowers that I was offered.

I smiled once more at the audience as they politely applauded before making my way back into the Justice Building, where Daphne immediately took my gifts off me and gave them to one of the many servants milling around.

"Well?" I asked her quietly as she began dragging me towards the rooms that I was to prepare for dinner with the Mayor. "Did I do okay?"

"Oh, yes, of _course_ you did," Daphne soothed, probably hearing the uncertainty in my voice. "Next time you should make a little more eye contact with the families though – they might have been feeling a little left out that you only looked at the rest of their district."

"It was just a bit awkward, seeing as I killed one of them."

Daphne waved her hand as if it was no big deal. "They understand," she said. "Now hurry up and have a shower. It's only District Twelve so you don't have to look your _finest_, but it's nice to at least _pretend_ that we care about the people here."

With that delightful parting comment, Daphne gave me a slight shove in the direction of the showers, were I found a huge array of shampoos and soaps that had obviously been bought just for me as most were still sealed.

I took a deep breath as I washed the gel out of my hair and got rid of the light covering of coal dust that seemed to coat my skin. It was nice to be alone for a few moments before I was forced back into the craziness of the cameras. I knew that it was only going to get worse as we got closer to the Capitol and more influential people started attending the parties, but I was still trying to cope with the unfriendly atmosphere of one district. Maybe Mags would have a few tips.

With a sigh, I shut off the water and pulled my underwear back on before unlocking the door and allowing Xenya to rush in with my clothes for dinner and push me back out into the dizzying world of public appearances and false smiles.

Daphne pulled me down the grand staircase inside the Justice Building, following Mags and Cade who walked arm in arm. I heard the cameras clicking before we even came into view: my most charming smile slid effortlessly onto my face as I was greeted once again by the Mayor, who introduced me to the other high-ranking people in the District before we were called to sit down at the impressively laid table that was piled high with steaming food.

Thankfully, someone had decided to spare me and placed me in between Mags and Haymitch, both of who had no interest in talking to me about anything vaguely political.

"Congratulations," Haymitch said gruffly. "You did well in that arena."

"Thanks. Sorry about Zoe…" I trailed off, not really sure how to finish that sentence.

Haymitch seemed to understand, as he interrupted with a shrug. "She was never going to win. Besides, you should be the one enjoying this – it's your Victory Tour, after all."

"Yeah, that part hasn't really sunk in. I'm still trying to work up the enthusiasm." I said the second sentence quietly, well aware that the Capitol wouldn't be impressed if I wasn't having the time of my life on the tour.

Haymitch laughed gruffly, echoing my thoughts by saying, "you better build up that enthusiasm before you reach the Capitol, boy. Snow will want to make sure you're appreciating everything the Capitol's giving you."

He reached signaled to a waiter to bring him another glass of wine and soon he was mumbling incoherently into his food. Mags rolled her eyes and told me not to worry about it before engaging me in a conversation with Effie Trinket, the aqua-haired escort for District Twelve. She, like Daphne, was all too happy to spend the hour talking about me instead of anything else vaguely interesting. I didn't mind, I was less likely to offend anyone if all we were doing was rhapsodising about my good lucks and charm.

Once the food was gone from the table, I was being pulled in several different directions by several different people who wanted a chance to dance with me.

After Effie had let me go, I wandered over to where the mayor was, figuring that it would probably be polite to at least talk to him for a few minutes while I was in his district.

"Mayor Undersee," I greeted politely.

He smiled and shook my hand when I spoke. "Mr. Odair, may I introduce to my wife." He gestured to a thin, gaunt woman standing beside him who smiled at me weakly as I took her hand and kissed it gently.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Undersee."

She smiled a little wider but took a few steps away. "I'm sorry; I just need to sit down for a few moments. No," she held up a hand to stop her husband from following her, "I'll be fine. Keep entertaining Finnick, honey."

"I'm sorry," the Mayor apologized again as we watched his wife's retreating figure. "She's ill and doesn't usually leave her bed so things like this," he gestured to the party, "tire her out quite quickly. I hope you don't take it personally."

"Oh no, not at all," I said. "I just wanted to thank you for hosting this party. It's an excellent way to start off my Tour."

Mayor Undersee smiled a lot more warmly as I complimented him and squeezed my shoulder in thanks.

"You'll forget all about this humble little thing once you reach districts one and two, but I'm glad you're appreciating it now."

I shook his hand as a way of goodbye before being absorbed by the crowd who wanted another quick dance out of me

Mags, Cade and I ate breakfast quietly the next morning on the train. I had a slight suspicion that Cade had a hangover from the way he winced whenever the train jerked violently. Mags was just as quiet and reserved as always as she delicately ate the scrambled eggs and toast presented to us.

"So how did you find yesterday, Finnick?" she asked.

I shrugged. "It wasn't too bad."

She smiled and reached over to squeeze my hand. "The rest of the districts will be just like this. It won't get any worse."

I believed her about that – but I wasn't worried about the other districts. I was Finnick Odair; I could do charming public appearances without thinking. However there was something much more sinister waiting for me in the Capitol.

I looked at Mags. Her eyes were crinkled with laugh lines however I knew that the creases on her forehead were from worrying about me. No matter how much every fibre of my body protested the thought of being used by different people in the Capitol for the President's gain; I was going to do what he ordered me to do because Mags was as close as I had to a mother. Or a family. And I had to do everything to keep her safe.

* * *

_Next Update: __**11**__**th**__**/12**__**th**__** June.  
**__Blame the exams D:_


	26. Promises Fulfilled

_I updated on time!_

_And some good news is that I only have two more weeks of exams before I have loads of free time and will be able to update weekly again. :D_

_Thank you so much to everyone who bothers to review/alert/favourite this story. It means a lot._

_If you recognise it, I don't own it._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Five: Promises Fulfilled**

I sunk lower into the cooling waters of the bath. Admittedly, the water had been 'cooling' for such a long time now that it was similar to sitting in a tub of ice water, but I hadn't been able to find the energy or willpower to sit up and get out.

A loud rapping on the door to the bathroom made me jump.

"Finnick!" Daphne's voice demanded through the wood. "Your appearance on the balcony needs to be aired; Xenya needs to dress you _soon._"

With a sigh, I prodded the chain attached to the bath plug with my foot lethargically. I knew that I was just putting off the inevitable however I was in no mood to get up and face the crowds of District Seven. The districts I had already been to had revealed to me that the appearances in front of the crowds of people who had seen me at my lowest was awkward and the glares of the families whose children had died seem to haunt me even after I had left the balconies.

The silver chain caught on my foot and I tugged the plug out, not moving as the water slowly drained away.

"Finnick! Get out of the bathroom!"

Daphne knocked rapidly on the door to get the urgency across and I sighed, hauling myself to my feet before wrapping a soft, clean towel around my waist. I unlocked the door and moved into the grand room where everyone was preparing for my appearance.

Xenya was waiting for me in the door to the small room that we were using as the changing room. He pursed his lips at the sight of my still-wet body and instructed me to make sure I was one hundred percent dry before I even touched the pile of clothes that were left folded neatly on the small table that was the only piece of furniture in my room.

I followed his instructions to the letter and spent an exorbitant amount of time removing every single water droplet from my body.

I knew that taking my time wouldn't change the fact that I _had_ to spend on the balcony talking to District Seven, but it would hopefully give me a few more minutes to collect myself. In all the other districts I had been okay because the tributes weren't anyone I knew particularly well – apart from Alys, but I had left her on the first night in the arena.

Lian and Genn had been the closest things to friends in that arena. And they didn't try to kill me once. It would probably have been different if we had got down to the final three; they would have gone as rabid and bloodthirsty as anyone else however I never had to see them at that stage. I just got to know the two siblings who wanted to go home.

And then I watched them both die.

The clothes were as soft and well made as ever, but they seemed a little too tight around my body as I unlocked the door and stepped out of the small closet. I tugged at the collar, trying to loosen it so breathing would be easier however it still felt uncomfortably snug.

Xenya batted my hand away as I moved to undo the top button and his silent glare as he set to work smoothing out the wrinkles told me that I would _lose_ that hand if I didn't stop fidgeting.

Daphne was, as ever, oblivious to my discomfort as she appeared at my elbow, the clipboard with our schedule clasped firmly in her hand.

"We'll need to be quick, quick, quick!" she chirped. "The camera crew is ready and waiting outside for your appearance and the mayor will be arriving any second. We don't want to keep them waiting, Finnick! It won't look good."

"Sorry, sorry," I muttered under my breath as she tucked the clipboard under one arm and firmly held my hand and led me to the wide double doors that led to the balcony before disappearing to inform the nearby lackeys that I was ready.

I saw Mags being shepherded through a smaller door – probably leading to the smaller viewing platform that she watched from. A small flurry of motions from one of the helpers warned me that the double doors were about to open.

Clouds covered the sun today and there was the distinct tension of a storm brewing in the air. The skin on the back of my neck rose uncomfortably as my memories of the hurricane in District Four that my family died in were drawn to the forefront of my mind. However this was no time to breakdown, not with every camera in the vicinity focused on my face – which was currently hosting my most charming smile as I beamed out at the crowd who were applauding.

There was only one stand for the Lian and Genn's family. Their parents sat on the two chairs, their hands clasped together. Around them was a small mass of young children with Genn's black hair. All of them looked underfed.

It was probably why both Lian and Genn had volunteered – there would be a higher chance of one of them winning and saving their family.

The applause stopped and the District Seven mayor began his speech as Lian and Genn's family stared sorrowfully up at me. I tried to ignore them as I smiled for the cameras. A small, fair-haired girl with a stocky build (probably gained from working with cattle from such a young age) skipped onto the stage and offered me a large bouquet of yellow flowers which I accepted with a big smile and a ruffle of the child's hair.

I finally allowed my eyes to rest on the family as I read out my own, personal speech.

"Lian and Genn were my two closest allies in the arena. They were both kind and brave when most are cruel and bloodthirsty. They saved my life. Without them, I would have been one of the first tributes to die." I paused to draw a breath as I stared next paragraphs I had written, thanking them for volunteering but I couldn't bring myself to say the words that _thanked_ two children for _dying_. "I'm just sorry that I didn't manage to save them."

They were crying, but the nod of acceptance I gained from the father calmed my nerves. At least I had been forgiven for one of my mistakes. Mags squeezed me into a tight hug as soon as we were behind closed doors. I relaxed into her hold – closing my eyes and allowing myself to be looked after for a second before the Capitol agenda pulled us apart and sent us to our next destination.

The districts slipped by in much the same manners after that one. There were a few changes as we slowly moved closer to the Capitol, though: the cheers started getting louder and more enthusiastic, the people were better fed and happier and the after parties lasted longer and ended later.

The people in District One didn't even want me to get off the stage – they chanted for encore as soon as tried to retreat from their view. Even the families of the dead children gave me a standing ovation once I was done. Though I _came_ from a Career district and understood the basic love for the Hunger Games, I had never seen anything equal to this level of passion and _longing_.

Past Victors were also falling over themselves to meet me. There were only a few in the outer districts and so I wasn't prepared for the _madness_ of the District Two party.

Victors were everywhere; overwhelming the numbers of District officials that had arrived. I had expected that there would be a lot of them – after all, most of the past sixty-five victors were spread out over District One, District Two and District Four – but I hadn't expected that as soon as I entered the room it would be like sharks smelling blood.

The younger ones beat their older counterparts to me. It was strange being circled by people my age that knew what I had gone through; District Four hadn't had a victor in a while. It was stranger still that none of them seemed to carry the same remorse that I did – they all jabbered excitedly at me at what a hit I was in the Capitol and how my life was going to be amazing. Many of them posed for photos for the press with me.

The older victors were slightly more conservative. Instead of leaping into my arms for hugs, they respectfully shook my hand before commenting on how expertly I played the Games and how well I influenced the Capitol. However the animalistic look of pleasure that entered their eyes as they discussed the Games mimicked that of the young victors.

Invitations for weapons showings and banquets and gatherings in the Capitol were pressed into my hands left right and centre. Apparently the victors from other districts did form bonds between each other and enjoyed meeting up at parties in the Capitol.

As Mags and I left the District One party, the night before I was due in the Capitol I asked her about it.

She shrugged. "The only people who understand what the Games are like are our fellow victors. It's unsurprising that the closest friends we have are each other." She saw my eyes drop to the list of parties that had been shoved in my hand by Cashmere – the girl who won two years before. "Be careful, though, the Career Victors are just as conceited as any Capitolite and will delight in pushing you down to get themselves higher."

I scrunched up the paper and shoved it into the recesses of my pocket as we boarded the train.

* * *

It was barely four in the morning when I was summoned to Snow's office. The train had arrived an hour before and we were ushered to our old rooms in the Training Centre to catch a few more hours of sleep before we were expected to make our appearances to my adoring fans.

My head was barely on the soft pillow for twenty minutes before an Avox grabbed my shoulders and shook me awake.

"Wha-" I mumbled, my brain still firmly trying to get me back to sleep.

The Avox gave me another shake and I felt awareness slowly start to seep into my consciousness.

I blinked. "What do you want?"

He gestured to the open the door, where I could see two Capitol staff standing stiffly in their black suits. They barely acknowledged my presence as I dragged myself up of my elbows and swung my legs off the edge of the bed so I was sitting up.

"Can I help you?" I demanded – rather rudely, but it _was_ four in the morning so I had a legitimate reason to be less than impressed.

"The President requires you," one of the men said. "We were ordered to escort you to his office immediately."

_That_ woke me up.

"Now?" I asked with trepidation.

They nodded as one and I pushed myself to my feet. I was still wearing the clothes from the District One party – not bothering to have taken them off once I had got on the train. I slipped my feet into the smart black shoes that Xenya forced my feet into whenever there was a chance I would be seen in public (in other words: everywhere) and grabbed the black jacket that lay in a crumpled mess on the floor. I felt the disdainful sneers of the two men at my less-than-put-together appearance, but ignored them.

As soon as I neared them, two heavy hands landed on my shoulders, steering me out of the room and down the dark corridors. I glanced uneasily as we walked swiftly past Mags' closed door but didn't protest. It would be useless.

Despite the early time, the corridors around President Snow's office were bursting with silent activity. Avoxes ran around trying to keep out of the way of the suited men and women as they strode down the corridors, hands glued to communication devices. No one talked or even recognized each other's presence.

The double doors to Snow's office were closed but the two guards sprang to open them as soon as I approached. The Capitol staff that had accompanied me gave me a small push before turning on their heels and walking away.

"Finnick," President Snow said warmly, as if greeting an old friend. He gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk, "Please sit down."

I sank slowly into the leather, every nerve of my body tensed to flee at the first sense of danger. The adrenaline pumping through my system made feel like I was in the arena once again. Except this situation was so, so much more dangerous.

"I trust you've had a good Tour. Would you like some coffee? I know you haven't had much sleep."

"I'm plenty awake, but thank you for the offer, sir."

He smiled politely and called in an Avox to collect the mugs of coffee on his desk.

We didn't speak for a while after that. Snow tweaked the rose on his lapel before leaning his elbows on the desk and surveying me over his interlaced fingers. Despite my nerves, I resisted the urge to fiddle with my clothes and instead took the chance to examine his office.

It was much like any of the political offices that were shown sometimes on the news, though possibly slightly bigger. The walls were decorated with large filing cabinets and bookshelves containing big, boring looking books. The only thing that made it different was the roses. They were everywhere. Perfect white roses in classic vases stood on every surface. There were paintings on the walls and the air was bitter with the sweet stench of the flower.

President Snow lowered his hands onto the table, signaling to me that the real conversation was about to start.

"I'm so glad that you changed your mind, Finnick."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak without swearing or yelling.

"It's a shame that your family had to die, of course – the Capitol were very taken with your little sister after your address to her during your interview – but you need to understand that all of your actions have consequences."

I still didn't speak.

He didn't seem surprised by this and carried on with his monologue. "Now, Finnick, you're fifteen which is the legal age of consent here _and_in your own district so I can't imagine you'll have any protests," he paused and then added, "I'm sure your lovely, supportive mentor will try to help if you _do_ have any."

It was a barely concealed reminder of what I still had to lose.

"I don't have any," I said meekly, hating how easily I was giving in to this.

He smiled. "Excellent. Now, I believe that you have met Isadora Yang before?"

He opened one of the files and pushed it towards me. Inside was a picture of Isadora – the Capitol woman I had met at my victory party. One of the two most influential women in the city. She was just as repulsive as she had been before. There was also a sheet of paper describing her life in obsessive detail. I felt like I was being inducted into the Capitol's secret service.

"Yes, I met her after my Games," I answered.

"She was very taken with you, Finnick." The statement was simple and complimentary but so much more sinister with the knowledge of what it actually meant. "Apparently she didn't _stop_ talking to her friends about you for months afterwards. She even came to have a little chat with _me_ about you. She is very excited to meet you again and _you_ are very excited to meet _her_ again, aren't you?"

I closed my eyes to escape his intrusive stare and nodded. "Yes."

A smug smile spread across Snow's lips. "Excellent. You may go."

As if summoned, the two guards were opening the doors. My escorts were stood waiting against a wall. I stood up and made to give back the folder on Isadora but Snow held up a hand to stop me.

"No, Finnick, that is yours to keep. If I were you I would learn what you have in common so you have something to talk about this evening."

I shuddered, but kept hold of the file.

"I shall most likely see you at the banquet tonight." He smiled once again. "That is, if you aren't kept busy by your fans. Goodbye."

* * *

_**Question for all of my readers (please read and answer)**__: seeing as this story is rated M, should I or should I not write about the actual night that Finnick has? It wouldn't be just plain smut, it would be relevant to the plot but I'm aware I started this out as a T and some of you may not want it to include sex scenes…_

_Next update: __**25**__**th**__**/26**__**th**__** June**_

_Thank you all for putting up with my awful updating schedules._


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